


A Touch of Eternity

by Anonymous_Ostrich



Series: See You Out There - Picard/Q series [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Developing Relationship, In Character, M/M, Q being vague and lovesick, fluff and eventual smut, picard being done with him as always, romantic schmoop, time-travelling first dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-05 23:43:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10320272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Ostrich/pseuds/Anonymous_Ostrich
Summary: As Picard trudged a path through the heaps of flowers to his desk, he knew only one entity in the universe who would do something so showy, so shamelessly ostentatious, that as he lay a hand on the flower-coated surface of his desk he had to take a moment to draw a deep breath in through his nose and let it out slowly before addressing the room."Q." Only ringing silence answered him. "Q, I know it's you. Come out immediately."





	1. Chapter 1

As soon as the door to the turbolift opened on Deck 8, Jean-Luc Picard was assaulted by a robust, floral fragrance.

The scent of flowers. Unmistakably, overwhelmingly. It would have been almost sickening if it weren't so pleasant, but there was always room for too much of a good thing, and this was cutting it close.

It was late, and Picard was tired. Although he typically enjoyed busy days - especially when schedules and plans went off without a hitch - he enjoyed the solitude after just as much. A hot cup of earl grey while he poured over reports, a light dinner with some gentle music to relax his bones and his mind. Before bed he picked a book at random to read if he could keep his eyes open for it. Tonight was no exception. He'd stepped onto the turbolift with such an evening in mind, but as he approached his quarters, trying to discern the source of the fragrance that was bombarding his senses, he got the distinct feeling his plans were about to be derailed.

The moment the door to Jean-Luc's quarters slid open, dozens of varieties of exotic flora spilled out over his boots and into the hall, halting his previously determined gait through the doorway.

Of the flowers he could identify, he spotted orchids, amaryllis, tulips and a colorful diversity of flowering ginger. Jean-Luc was surprised he hadn't smelled this admittedly heavenly aroma all the way from the bridge.

Of course, he knew who was responsible for this the moment he'd entered the room. As Picard trudged a path through the heaps of flowers to his desk, he knew only one entity in the universe who would do something so showy, so shamelessly ostentatious, that as he lay a hand on the flower-coated surface of his desk he had to take a moment to draw a deep breath in through his nose and let it out slowly before addressing the room.

"Q." Only ringing silence answered him. "Q, I know it's you. Come out immediately."

A flash of light in front of him - odd, since Q usually liked to appear just out of sight for extra dramatic emphasis, Jean-Luc thought - and a tall man dressed in a recently outdated Starfleet uniform was sitting cross-legged on the opposite side of the desk, flippantly twirling a vibrant, deep purple flower between his fingers. He grinned at Picard, his dark eyes glittering in the dim light.

"Jean-Luc, I'm flattered, really. You know me so well, _mon capitaine_."

Picard clenched and unclenched his jaw. "I do, it seems. Though there's little chance anyone else would be responsible for-" he glanced around idly at the piles of beautiful flowers littering every inch of his chambers, "-this particular sort of nonsense." He returned his gaze to the entity sitting on his desk, thinking to order him off but quickly realizing the pointlessness of it. "What's the occasion?"

"Hmm, what indeed?" Q piped, seeming pleased that he hadn't yet been dismissed. "Do I _need_ a reason to drop by and brighten a hard-working Captain's day?"

"Yes," Picard snapped, attempting to clear away the fragrant mess covering his desk to avoid Q's smug gaze. "Absolutely, you do. You always have a reason, Q, a meaning to your random and unwelcome visits. So out with it." He twirled his finger in the air. "And if you could _please_ tidy up my quarters, while you're at it. The smell is making me dizzy."

Q tsked, snapping his fingers. All of the flowers disappeared at once, as did the intoxicating aroma, all except the lovely purple wild-flower Q continued to twirl. "You're such a spoil sport. There were over five-hundred species of flower no human has ever seen, and you didn't even take a moment to appreciate it!"

Jean-Luc could feel his impending headache stirring in the very back of his skull. "I don't have time for this, Q. Tell me what it is you want."

For a moment, Jean-Luc thought he saw a flicker of authentic hurt on Q's face, but it was gone in an instant as was Jean-Luc's interest in it. Q hopped off of the desk to pace leisurely, holding his hands behind his back, flower still clenched in his fingers. "You know, it might just be possible that I don't 'want' anything. Did it ever occur to you that I might have simply wanted to visit my favorite Starfleet Captain?"

"You're stalling," Picard accused, folding his arms over his chest. The hitch in Q's otherwise languid pace proved him correct. Q stopped and turned to Jean-Luc with a penetrating stare.

"Such hostility! And after I planned such a nice surprise for you! Shame on you, Jean-Luc."

" _Q_."

The entity rolled his eyes and groaned. "You're making this _so_ much easier, you know." Q walked to the couch and stretched out on it with a sigh, looking oddly deflated. He continued to twirl the flower in his fingers, glaring down at it past his nose as if he were preparing to scold it.

"I came to say goodbye, Picard." Q said, and for the first time since he'd popped into the room his voice sounded heavy. Jean-Luc felt his guard lower by the smallest of degrees, though that did little to soften his reaction. He pointedly sat down at his desk, turning his terminal toward him to check through some diagnostics he'd meant to take a look at.

"Well. I appreciate you taking the time to let me know, but there was really no need. I'll trust you to see yourself out."

The room went very quiet; Jean-Luc fully expected a dramatic rebuttal or a snarky admission of mistruth. When none came, Picard almost expected Q to have actually left - which would have been just as shocking as it would be pleasant - but when he glanced up, Q was still sitting on the couch, expression hard to read in the dim light. After a time of silence, Jean-Luc realized with considerable surprise that Q wasn't taking advantage of the quiet for once. Jean-Luc's jaw clenched and he leaned far back in his chair, leveling Q a slightly more patient expression.

"Alright, Q. What exactly does that mean?" Picard asked, his voice still hardened with considerable suspicion. He knew better than to take Q at his word, and he really wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. "Are you and the Continuum at odds again?"

Q grinned, though now it seemed rather forced. "No. Nothing like that, not this time." Q fussed with the large purple petals of his flower. "It's a simple goodbye. Farewell, sayonara, arrivederci…"

"You're not…" Jean-Luc paused, trying to find the appropriate word for the situation, but none came, "...dying, are you?" He was alarmed at just how much the thought disturbed him, no matter how unlikely it was.

Q sputtered a delighted laugh. "Dying? Goodness, no. I expect I wouldn't know how." He tilted his head curiously. "Would you mourn for me, were it true?"

"Alright, so you're not dying. Then what, precisely, is the need for a goodbye, other than getting my hopes up?" Picard grumbled, pointedly dodging the question.

Q was silent for a long moment. Finally he stood, returning to his aimless, lazy pacing. He did this for another long moment until Picard opened his mouth to impatiently remind him to get on with things; he lost the urge when Q stopped, turned away, head slightly bowed.

"Will you miss me?" he asked. Jean-Luc was so used to Q's natural mockery that such an honest, frank question devoid of sarcasm took him slightly off-guard.

"I certainly won't miss the disorder you've often led us into, Q, but you still haven't told me what this is all about."

Q laughed, but this time it was humorless, flat. "How can I? How can something so- _ugh_ , something so utterly _ridiculous-_ " He sighed and turned to face Picard, his expression oddly wounded. "So you wouldn't miss me? Not even a little, not so much as a passing nostalgia to revisit on a lonely night?"

Jean-Luc stood up, tugging his uniform into proper alignment with a touch of indignance. He walked around his desk, stopping several feet short of Q's position. "Would you miss someone who repeatedly turns up in your life just to throw it into chaos?" he asked hotly. Q took a large step toward him, bristling.

"Oh ho, _there_ it is. You continually overlook _every positive thing_ I've ever tried to-"

"I _do not_ overlook them," Jean-Luc cut in sharply, raising an authoritative hand as an automatic response. "But you _cannot_ expect me to act like the rest of it never happened, or expect me to respond to you in a way that satisfies you when you won't even tell me what is going on."

Q's nostrils flared and he turned away, though he looked vaguely chastised. "So. I'm just an entity that throws your life into chaos, is that right? I wonder, how much differently you would feel about me had I first appeared before you as a pretty, tight little brunette, hm? How much quicker you would be to… forgive."

There was something oddly biting about the implication, and though Jean-Luc couldn't place it, he felt distinctly like Q was accusing him of something sordid. He clamped down hard on his temper, wondering if Q's indirect assertion had anything to do with Vash. Although he knew she and Q weren't travelling together anymore, the subject of Picard's relationship with her had doubtlessly come up between them, and Vash was not shy in matters of love and sex, nor was Q in asking about them.

Jean-Luc would be lying if he said he'd never thought about the similarities in Q and Vash's personalities; they were both cunning in their own ways, delighted in chaos when it suited them, and had no qualms with deceit and recklessness if it meant achieving their goals. All traits Jean-Luc usually despised in all forms, but he'd found wildly attractive when he'd first gotten to know Vash.

Still. This was different, _Q_ was different, and it had nary to do with his anatomical gender. Last he checked, Vash hadn't yet flung his ship half-way across the universe or attempted to condemn all of humanity for the sins of their ancestors through some ridiculously unfair mockery of a trial.

"Q, you've lost me." Jean-Luc irritably ran his hand over his head. "You could have appeared on my bridge as the most fetching humanoid female in the universe and I wouldn't have felt any differently for you after all the grief you subjected us to. Whatever you looked like, you were dangerous, and a potent threat to my crew." He saw Q's shoulders sag somewhat.

"Yes, of course you'd say that. And of course it's true... How very boring of you. You could take a note from Riker's book, you know." He chuckled weakly. "A capable commander he may be, he's much more - _ahem_ , 'comfortable' thinking with his second brain when it suits him."

Picard took a gracious step toward Q, feeling the tension in the air whittle away. "Q. Just tell me what this is about. If there's…" he sighed, regretting his words before he'd even spoken them, "...something I can do to help, I'd like to try, if I'm able."

Q's laugh held a steady note of melancholy timbre. He shook his head and dropped his gaze to the floor. "Oh, if only. If only, Jean-Luc." He turned, closing off the distance between them. Picard had the wild urge to back away, but he stifled it, focusing instead on the strange intensity in Q's eyes that he'd never seen before. Q was close enough for their arms to brush if either moved just so, and though Jean-Luc was accustomed to his personal space being invaded by the entity, today it felt different. Q stared down at him with a strangely soft expression, his dark eyes tracing the features of Picard's face as though he were trying to memorize them. The action was almost… tender, if Jean-Luc had to put a word to it.

"You haven't answered me. Not really. You won't miss the chaos I've ushered your way, fine. But I asked you if you will miss me, _me_." The word rang differently than the others, and all at once Jean-Luc realized the depth of that word, the real meaning behind it, the significance of 'self' to an immortal entity with near God-like powers. Jean-Luc found an odd surge of something hot in his chest, something like anger but not exactly.

He thought to dodge the question, but the rare sincerity in Q's eyes was profound enough to make him reconsider.

"I…. Think I might, yes." he said, softer than he had intended. Something seemed to ignite in Q's eyes, and the smallest of smiles tugged at the corner of the man's mouth.

"There, now. Was that really so hard?" he asked teasingly. "Thank you, Jean-Luc, my friend. Though, it's far from what I want. So incredibly far." He sighed gently, warm breath falling lightly over Picard's face.

"Q, I still-"

"A parting gift, then," Q said, taking a small step back so that he might extend the purple flower to Picard with a flourish. Hesitantly, Jean-Luc took it, half-expecting it to send him shooting through space to some uncharted planet, or triggering some other sort of insane event so typical of Q, but nothing happened. There was merely a beautiful purple flower staring up at him, wide petals streaked with sharp yellow, and a thick green stem adorned with soft, slightly bristly leaves.

"I've never seen a flower like this. What species is it?"

"Now it wouldn't be any fun if I told you, would it?" Q answered, sounding very much like his old self again, which came as an odd relief to the Captain. "Consider it my very last game for you. It might be more appropriate to call it a riddle... Though, you are under no obligation to try and solve it."

"A riddle?" Picard glanced at the flower again, looking it over curiously. It seemed very much like an ordinary flower, though its name and whatever planet it called home was still a mystery. "Q, I have to ask… Is something at stake? Is this 'riddle' at all dangerous to my crew or my ship?"

"Not at all. It is only a flower, Jean-Luc. I give you my word." Q's smugness melted, giving way to a glimpse of earnest sincerity. He sighed and looked to the ceiling, as though he were trying to find appropriate words. Had the situation been different, Jean-Luc might have commended him on his obvious attempt to communicate honestly.

Finally, Q appeared to have come to some sort of conclusion. He stepped close again, that same strange, soft glint in his eyes. "If you… If you'll _truly_ miss me, then solve my little puzzle, Picard. If not, then… Well. Keep it to remember me by, at least."

"So if I solve it, you'll come back?" Jean-Luc asked. "You'll tell me what's really going on?"

Q smiled. " _Mon capitaine_ , if you solve it, nothing in the universe could keep me away."

Before Jean-Luc could open his mouth to reply, Q was gone in a diamond of light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a 3-part series consisting of 3 multi-chaptered stories. The first 2 are already finished, so I'll probably be posting a chapter a week!
> 
> I'm a long-time ST fan but this is my first ST fanfic, so feedback would be greatly appreciated! I'm starving for some interaction with other fans, since I don't actually know too many others IRL... (ﾉ)´∀｀(ヾ)
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! (●´□`)♡


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean-Luc drags his feet solving Q's riddle, and then he wishes he'd dragged them a bit longer.

For three months the purple flower was kept on Jean-Luc's desk in a slender, transparent vase that was simple in design but quite beautiful and complementary in its simplicity.

Over time, Jean-Luc observed that the flower - completely ordinary, Q had assured him - did not require water or artificial sunlight to stay healthy. In fact, it didn't seem to need anything at all. It's beauty hadn't diminished in the slightest. For the first couple of weeks, Jean-Luc had run frequent scans and kept thorough notes on its condition, but after a while it seemed pointless to continue. It was like it was frozen in time. Not an outrageous deduction, considering who gifted it to him.

Still, it didn't seem to pose any threat to anyone. The scans he'd done hadn't been able to classify the species of the flower, though Picard knew that for a more detailed analysis, he'd have to take the specimen to the bio lab and perform a proper scan on the genomes. He might have done it sooner, but time hadn't permitted.

Or… Maybe it had, but he'd been putting it off.

Jean-Luc was still considering whether or not he wanted to attempt solving Q's riddle. For that matter, he wasn't even sure where to begin. If it truly was an ordinary flower, Jean-Luc was unsure of how to proceed. Surely the breed of the flower was important, but how? What kind of puzzle had Q intended for him? Was it something of a scavenger hunt? Jean-Luc didn't have the time for some grand adventure constructed by a Q when there was so many other important matters to attend to. Then again, he suspected Q knew that. If he truly wanted Jean-Luc to solve his riddle - and it seemed he truly did - he would have ensured it was something Picard could accomplish while still performing his duties as usual.

So for three months the flower sat timeless and beautiful on his desk until he summoned enough reluctant desire to ask Data to meet him in the plant biology lab at his earliest convenience.

"Your original scans have been accurate, sir. This specimen is not registering as any known flora species in our database." Data was pulling up the results of his scan, his golden eyes flicking quickly over the screen.

Jean-Luc rubbed his chin with his knuckle. "As I thought. Were there any traces of terra, or soil particles that might point us toward a specific planet type?"

Data turned to face Jean-Luc with a stiff twist of his torso. "No, sir. Though, I do not believe this specimen grows on any planet, undiscovered or otherwise."

Jean-Luc frowned. "Explain."

"The scans indicate that this flower is made up of four different plant DNA, each with a vastly different number of contributing genomes."

"It's a hybrid?" the Captain asked, lowering his hand.

"I believe so, sir. All four species can be found on Earth." Data turned to regard the screen once again. "The common names are as follows: stinging nettle, tulip, mallow and clovenlip toadflax. Would you like the scientific names as well?"

"Thank you, Mr. Data, I would. If you could have the results sent to my chambers, I would appreciate it." Jean-Luc wiped a hand over his mouth. It couldn't be this simple, could it? Surely Q would have known that Jean-Luc could have figured out this much with a thorough scan. There had to be some significance to the breeds.

Data's brow furrowed lightly. "Sir, I have an inquiry."

"Yes, Data."

"Why did you request my assistance with this task?" he asked curiously. "There are several qualified science officers aboard who would have been fully capable of running these scans and tests, and yet you asked for me personally."

Picard patted Data's shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. "I was hoping for as much discretion as possible for this matter, and you are more than qualified, Data."

"Thank you, Captain." Data tilted his head. "If you are hoping to keep these results discreet, does this also mean you would not like for me to mention your gift to any of the crew?"

"What gift?" Beverly Crusher appeared at Picard's side, glancing curiously at the purple flower sitting daintily on the biometric scanner. Deanna Troi and William Riker followed from behind, taking equally curious stances around the desk. Well, so much for discretion. How was it that his entire blasted bridge staff had congregated in the very last place he expected to see them?

"Didn't expect to find you up here," Will remarked with a grin, crossing his arms over his chest. "Can't say I've ever seen you spend downtime in the science lab, Captain."

"Nor you," Jean-Luc answered with a smile. "How very… Serendipitous."

Beverly was still staring down at the flower with interest, finally pulling her gaze away to return the Captain's smile. "It's my fault, really. We were having drinks in Ten Forward when I started going on about my little hobby as an ethnobotanist. I was telling them about some seedlings I had growing, and they were both _just buzzed enough_ to humor me."

Deanna grinned and bumped Beverly's shoulder with her own while simultaneously offering Picard a pleasant smile. "What are you two doing here?" she asked them.

Jean-Luc cleared his throat, not at all awkwardly. "I was just leaving, myself."

Deanna was already onto him, her dark eyes trained on him for the smallest of moments before she looked away, her lips pressing into a thoughtful line. Will leaned over, glancing at the flower closely. "Well, that's a heck of thing. Where did it come from? I've never seen anything like it."

"It's beautiful," Deanna commented idly.

Data was watching his Captain with raised brows, clearly unsure how or if to contribute to the conversation. Jean-Luc decided to take pity on him. "It's alright, Data, this isn't some sort of big secret. Though I was hoping for more privacy in this matter, it isn't deeply personal." At the reassurance, Data noticeably relaxed. Picard gently removed the flower from the scanner, twirling it a couple of times and squaring his shoulders. "You may as well know. Q appeared in my quarters about three months ago claiming he had come to say goodbye, though he wouldn't tell me why. This flower is supposed to be some kind of 'parting gift'. He undoubtedly created it himself."

All crew present aside from Data took a large and almost perfectly coordinated step back, as though he'd just announced he was holding an unstable and dangerous explosive material. Jean-Luc realized grimly that in this case, his crew might be a great deal more sensible than he.

"That's a gift from _Q_?" Beverly asked. "Why didn't you mention this before?"

"Q doesn't have a great track record for giving you sensible 'gifts'," Will put in skeptically.

Jean-Luc held up a calming hand, trying hard not to think of his ridiculous swashbuckling Sherwood Forest adventure. "Believe me, I've already performed every scan and test per Starfleet procedure, and a few of my own per _Q_ procedure. The only unusual thing about this flower is how wholly unremarkable it is."

"Still, doesn't that make it even more suspicious?" Will asked, stepping in closer to stare at the flower with a more meticulous eye. "It isn't like Q to do anything unremarkable."

"He wasn't quite himself when we last spoke," Picard turned the flower over in his hand. "And though it's quite safe, I'm afraid it's as you said, nothing is simple when Q is involved… This flower is apparently a riddle of some kind. He assured me that solving this puzzle is entirely up to me, but…" He sighed deeply.

"You think he may be in danger," Deanna finished for him.

"Not that it should matter in the least to me, but yes," Jean-Luc admitted, "or something to that effect, perhaps."

"So then, what have you figured out?" Beverly asked, hugging her arms and edging closer with the air of someone ready to solve a mystery.

Picard shook his head. "Nothing that makes sense, but I expected as much." He glanced up to regard his crew with an appreciative smile. "No matter. I was hoping to avoid pulling anyone else into Q's madness, so that's the last you'll hear of it, I assure you. I still haven't decided if I'm going to continue following his absurd breadcrumb trail or not."

Will clamped a hand on Jean-Luc's shoulder, squeezing gently. "If I know you, Captain - and I think I do - a puzzle like this is bound to be too tempting to pass up. And I'm willing to bet Q knows that, as well." He squeezed a little more insistently. "Just be careful, Captain. Q is unpredictable."

"That thought has crossed my mind too, Number One, but you're right. Believe me, if I think for a moment that this… whatever this is… is risking anything more than my own precious time, I will let you know immediately."

"That's all we ask," Beverly said. A suspiciously feline grin tugged at her lips. "Wouldn't it be something, though?"

"And what's that?" Picard asked.

She shrugged. "If it really was just an innocent gift and a harmless riddle."

.

.

.

Determined not to obsess over this aromatic riddle Q had left him with, Jean-Luc poured himself into work over the next few weeks, the flower reclaiming its spot on his desk. Not Will, Deanna nor Beverly had brought up the matter of Q's strange gift since their initial talk in the biology lab, and Picard was grateful for it. They had much to distract themselves with anyway; the transportation of Cardassian delegates for treaty negotiations, a rescue mission on Gelul 7, and a ship-wide outbreak of alien bacteria that caused every crewman onboard aside from Data and Geordi to hallucinate colorful, wildly feathered birds of various sizes and levels of mischievousness.

But the flower was never quite out of his mind, and he couldn't deny that he'd given a fair amount of thought to the breeds of flora Q had spliced together to create the purple beauty resting delicately in his quarters. In passing, of course. When he had a spare moment.

During one such moment, Jean-Luc was thumbing through a book on botany he'd borrowed from Beverly, making various notes on his pad for any possible correlation between the four plants that made the flower complete when a familiar bleep marked a visitor at the door of his ready room. Jean-Luc glanced up from his book, feeling almost as though he'd been caught doing something questionable, but quickly disregarded that thought.

"Come."

The door slid open and Data entered, arms tightly at his sides, his head cocking slightly when he saw the book Jean-Luc had open in his hand.

"Yes Mr. Data, what is it?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, Captain, but I found myself curious if you had solved Q's riddle." He eyed the book again. "Your choice in literature would suggest that you have not."

Jean-Luc shifted in his seat, closing the book and pushing it away from him. "Very astute, Data, thank you."

"Should I not have inquired, sir?" Data asked worriedly.

"No, no. It's quite alright." Jean-Luc latticed his fingers together and laid his hands in his lap. "Your timing is exemplary, however. I haven't thought of the blasted thing in days, but since we all had a spare moment this afternoon, I thought I'd give it a whirl."

"Have you uncovered any clues, sir?" Data asked, perhaps a tad eagerly. Jean-Luc's brows shot up, and then a moment later relaxed into a knowing grin, leaning back in his seat.

"Ah, of course. I had forgotten your fondness for these sorts of mysteries. My weakness too, I'm afraid." Picard extended a hand to the chair on the other side of his desk. "Please, have a seat. Perhaps you can help me get to the bottom of things. _Without_ a holodeck, trenchcoats or pipes this time."

Data took a seat and laid his hands on his knees, leaning forward in a way that suggested he couldn't contain his theories another moment.

"Captain, I have read everything in our databases on each of the species that provide the genetic makeup of the hybrid flower, and I have found seventy-two similarities they share that may prove to be significant."

"Alright, let's hear your top ten. One at a time, please."

Data nodded. "Yes, sir. Perhaps the most obvious similarity is that they are all found on Earth."

"Yes, that's probably intentional. I would have assumed Q to be more creative, what with all the planets in the universe to choose from, so he's no doubt chosen Earth to make it personal to me, or to humanity."

Data nodded. "It is important to remember that riddles often intentionally mislead the recipient to focus on one seemingly important factor - a 'red herring' it is often called - when the answer actually lies somewhere less conspicuous."

Picard rubbed his chin in thought. "Next."

"The second similarity I have found is the number of genomes each species contributes to the DNA of the flower. Although vastly different in number, mathematically they are in a clear numerical order."

"Too precise to be an accident, I agree." Of course it wasn't accident, nothing Q did was an accident. "So they have a particular order. What does that mean?"

Data's brows gently knitted in thought. "I am not sure. It may point to the importance or significance of the species, but beyond that, there is not yet enough information to form a hypothesis."

Jean-Luc sighed, eyes darting to the ceiling as though Q were watching from somewhere, snickering in whatever form he took when he wasn't in the company of humans. _Is this what you really wanted, Q? To have me theorizing about flowers when I could be doing something far more productive?_ Somehow, he knew Q wasn't watching. He knew Q had really left, and strangely, he knew he was serious about staying away for good.

Data watched the Captain for a moment, frowning. "Captain, do you believe that the entity Q may be in danger?"

Picard sucked in a breath, repositioning in his chair. "I have no idea. I know there was something wrong when he was last here, but I can't claim to know what kinds of 'dangers' a near omnipotent entity could be facing that would require a…. _a riddle_ to save himself from."

"Then you believe that Q may be trying to deceive you?" Data asked, unsure.

"I don't know that either, not for certain." Jean-Luc said. "But somehow, I don't think so."

Data nodded. "Then there must be another meaning to his riddle. If we could only form a-"

" _Meaning_!" Jean-Luc exclaimed suddenly, causing Data to fall silent in intrigue. He hadn't meant to interrupt him, but the realization hit him like rock to the head. "Meaning, of _course_. I hadn't even thought of that. I'd been so wrapped up in the practical that I hadn't considered the impractical… Which, where Q is concerned, is clearly where I should have started."

"Sir?"

Jean-Luc's gaze snapped to Data, almost having forgotten he was there. "The meaning of flowers and plants, Data. Long ago, humans assigned complex meanings to hundreds of flora species in order to communicate, or share feelings."

Data's golden eyes darted back and forth in their sockets for a moment as he pulled up the necessary information. With a blink he was back, glancing up at Picard, his face alight with his new knowledge. "I see. 'The language of flowers'. It appears that humans once put much sentimental value in the meanings of various flower species, and even used this as a method of communication during times of war and conflict."

"I think you'll find that some of us still carry those sentiments, to a degree," Picard offered, smiling softly, "though I certainly don't claim to be knowledgeable in this language in the slightest. But then, romance has always been an area that has decidedly alluded me."

"Romance, sir?" Data asked. Before Jean-Luc could deter him, Data had accessed the information he indirectly requested. "Ah, it would seem that beginning in the mid-19th century, flowers were predominantly chosen and gifted in interest of romance and courtship. How fascinating."

"Fascinating it may be, but completely invalid in this case." Jean-Luc stood, smoothing out his uniform. "But we may be onto something. Thank you for coming, Data. I'll tackle this at a later time, perhaps when we don't have bridge duties to perform."

.

.

.

Syrian mallow… _Consumed by love_. Clovenlip toadflax… _Please notice my feelings for you_. Red tulip… _Declaration of love_.

Well. There certainly seemed to be a theme.

Jean-Luc was immensely glad he'd asked Data to leave before trying to make any more progress, though he suspected Data had already looked it all up on his own. He could only pray he kept the results to himself.

Was Q trying to tease him? After all the fuss he made, was this his idea of a joke? Jean-Luc couldn't be sure, but he remembered the somber look in Q's eyes and the blatant bitterness in his words when they'd last spoken and thought better of it, but surely this wasn't what it seemed. Could a Q even _understand_ feelings like this? For that matter, to whom was this carefully coded message intended? It had been given specifically to Jean-Luc, but assuredly there was a deeper level to this so-called riddle, and the ardent meanings were the 'red herring', meant to lead him astray. That had always been Q's way.

Jean-Luc sat back in his chair and sighed, smoothing a hand over his head. If the meanings were translated in order of most dominant plant genome to the most recessive, it read less like a riddle and more like a love letter. 'I want you to notice my feelings, I love you so desperately I am consumed by it.' It rang a shade too close to wedding vows, Picard thought uncomfortably. The stinging nettle DNA came last in the gene-pool, but the database hadn't been able to find a clear match, and without a known meaning, the last piece of the message was still unclear.

The Captain yawned, rolled his shoulders and shifted in his seat so that he could properly stretch his spine. He needed sleep. Even though he'd had a little bit of free time tonight, he was sure he could have used it more efficiently. There must have been a million other things that were more deserving of his attention than riddles, faux declarations of love and stinging nettle.

Jean-Luc moved to stand but froze mid-way, a chill flying up his spine at the realization. All at once he knew the significance of the stinging nettle, and why the Federation database hadn't been able to discern a clear meaning for the particular variation. It was something Picard already knew, something he'd known for years, an obscure bit of trivia that he doubted anyone else on board would have been able to guess without knowing where to look, even Data.

And just like that, Jean-Luc realized the message was crafted for him after all. Deeply, personally, irrefutably meant for him and only him.

Jean-Luc's gaze moved to the flower on his desk, frowning at it. Sleep wasn't going to come easily for him tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is from Q's point of view! Also there might be some smooching who knows
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! >:D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picard and Q talk some things through, and then the Captain suggests something that surprises them both.

Somewhere in the universe, taking up an obnoxious amount of space in a technologically underdeveloped solar system millions of years from human discovery, a pulsing, swirling radioactive anomaly was having a good old-fashioned pity party.

Time meant nothing to a Q. The passage of time was a silly concept mortals depended on to chart their equally silly, inconsequential lives.

( _Still. Three and a half months? The nerve!_ _A mere blip in my existence, and yet somehow it feels longer than anything I've ever had to endure_.)

Q's form shifted and morphed, splaying out to lazily trace circles in the gamma rays of the nearest sun. He hadn't exactly expected Jean-Luc to jump on his little gift as soon as he'd snapped away, but couldn't he at least _pretend_ to make haste?

( _I anticipated this. His command comes first, yadda yadda, Federation this, Prime Directive that. Such a_ good _Captain he is, so proper, so strong, and so_ booo _ring. Beloved by all,_ indeed _._ )

The anomaly flickered and appeared to sag.

( _By all, huh. Hmph_.)

Q's form contracted and then expanded, taking on a decidedly more melodramatic color to match his mood. If he could put a pin in the lowest point of his life, stretched over billions and billions of years, this came damn close. Was he really out here on the opposite end of the universe, waiting for someone to call for him? Like some kind of pet? He was Q! Not some lovelorn, sad, pathetic little-

( _I don't_ have _to be doing this. I can snap back there anytime I like, no force is holding me here! Maybe just to blow off some steam, I could toss his little ship to some unknown, uncharted quadrant and watch them all flounder like the primates they are_.)

His tantrum only reminded him of when he'd done just such a thing, when he'd thrown the _Enterprise_ directly to the borg. Q's bitterness ebbed, replaced by something swirling and uncomfortable spreading somewhere in the bright web of his consciousness. He hated that feeling, that annoyingly regretful sensation that seemed to have its own personality - and on occasion an alluring, baritone voice - that had never been there prior to meeting Jean-Luc Picard.

Q's color changed again, something tamer and much more reverent, and his form settled.

( _This is ridiculous._ I'm _ridiculous_. _I did this, I put myself here. I gave Picard the power to keep me away forever or bring me back in an instant. That was_ my _choice. Whatever he decides, I have to accept it_.)

And the thought of it almost made Q burst into peals of laughter, if only he'd had an orifice in which to laugh. Instead, his form fluctuated violently, almost comically, energy crackling and swaying. When had this become him? When had Jean-Luc Picard become so integral to his being, so inexplicably wound up in his essence that it had come down to this, to this infernal _waiting_?

And so he waited, until something light and airy floated Q's way, tunneling through dimensions, snaking its way along one of the many threads of Q's consciousness until it had aroused his attention. Q listened, somewhat unbelieving, intensifying his hold on it to drag it closer. A warmth of familiarity rushed through his essence. It was a voice, velvety and deep, though it sounded somewhat irritated and impatient. Was there a trace of hesitancy hidden there, as well? It was hard to be sure. All Q knew for certain was that it was calling for him, asking that he show himself. Q tossed out a noninvasive tendril of consciousness, searching only for one particular piece of vital information.

_Q, I've solved it. Come back here immediately, if you can hear me._

In an instant, Q was gone from that gloomy system in a snap of light, appearing cross-legged on Jean-Luc Picard's couch, his human guise wrapped up in his usual red Starfleet uniform, four shiny pips on his collar and a grin on his lips.

Picard stood in front of his desk, turning at the familiar presence behind him. Q couldn't identify the look on his face, but he thought he looked decidedly guarded. Q felt his human pulse begin to quicken with nervousness and anticipation, but he effortlessly hid it behind a flirtatious sneer.

" _Mon capitaine_ , you made me wait!" he said, stretching his arms out on the back of the couch and leaning back as casually as he could manage. "I was feeling lonely out there, you know."

Jean-Luc almost seemed to relax somewhat at the sight of Q being… well, Q. ( _I suppose I could just read his mind… But that would be cheating, wouldn't it?_ ) A moment later he appeared to steel himself, letting a sigh out through his nose.

"Q, please drop the charade. I played your little game, now if you could kindly tell me what all the mystery is about, I would greatly appreciate it."

Q's expression soured somewhat. He stood up in one fluid motion, dark eyes locked on Picard with wounded menace. "It was no game, Jean-Luc, and I would expect if you truly solved it, you would have known that already."

The Captain folded his hands at his navel, falling silent. Q bit back his words and allowed Jean-Luc a moment to say whatever he was currently mulling over. Q felt oddly naked, like he was waiting to be judged and sentenced to some kind of terrible fate. The irony of it was not lost on him.

Finally, Jean-Luc turned and approached his desk. Q's eyes slid to the crystalline vase holding his gift, and felt that strange sense of exposure all over again, this time tinged with hot anxiety.

"I'm… having a difficult time understanding the specimen you left me with." Picard finally said. Gently, almost wearily. "Or rather, the meaning behind it. I do believe I solved the riddle, but the answer wasn't something I was anticipating."

"Did it offend you?" Q asked just as gently.

"Poetry rarely offends me," Jean-Luc answered easily, "it's just that I wasn't expecting poetry. That's the very last thing I was expecting, quite honestly." He sighed, turning to glance at Q again. His eyes traced him up and down. "So, you're alright? You weren't in any danger?"

Q chuckled. "Moi? Oh, never."

"Then why did you leave?" Jean-Luc asked, frowning. "Why give me that flower, why all the secrecy? If you had something to tell me, why not just tell me and be done with it?"

Q sighed, walking around Jean-Luc toward his desk. He stopped in front of the flower, taking one of the silky petals between his forefinger and thumb and rubbing along the length. "Some things aren't so easy to say in words." He drew himself up, tossing Jean-Luc a glance over his shoulder. "Which part gave it away?"

Jean-Luc shifted where he stood. "All of it."

"No, no. Which part in particular?"

The Captain's jaw appeared to clench. ( _Oh, how incredibly attractive that is. Does he know how much I want to kiss that jaw? Make it clench with something other than tension?_ ) "Stinging nettle." came Picard's firm answer.

"Mm-hm."

"Shakespeare. _Hamlet_ and _King Lear_. You knew it was likely my knowledge of Shakespearean symbolism would help me put the pieces together."

"And shake up some fond memories in the process," Q chirped with a grin.

Picard snorted. "Fond?" He shook his head. "If memory serves, we spat quotes at each other until you got so fed up you launched a copy of _Hamlet_ at me, like a child throwing a fit."

"You make it sound so ugly, Jean-Luc! That was only foreplay, you know."

"Q, stop this." Jean-Luc stepped closer, his stare insistent. "You're not acting like yourself. All of this just to… what? Test me somehow? Confess something?"

Q whirled around, arms crossed over his chest, feeling oddly embarrassed. "And just what have I confessed? Come, Picard, you haven't outright said it yet. I humbly requested that you solve my riddle, but I haven't yet heard the answer."

Jean-Luc's shoulders straightened and his expression grew agitated. "Perhaps it is because the answer still eludes me. Why should I be expected to relay your _own message_ -"

"I'm not asking for the answer to the _riddle_ , Jean-Luc!" Q snapped, taking a sizable step forward. Picard held his ground. "I want to hear _your_ answer, the answer that only you can give me." He moved in closer, seeing only the faintest trace of resistance in the Captain's posture. "Come now, Captain, surely you've figured out what I'm really looking for. It's been three and a half months, after all."

"Meaningless to a Q."

"You might be surprised."

Picard inhaled a shuddering breath and let it out slow. "I don't have an answer, Q," he said. "You're speaking to me in riddles and poetry. If… if my findings have been accurate, you've even gone as far as to tell me that you... love me. You can't just expect me to accept that without direct confirmation."

Q stepped closer still, his entire mortal frame internally pulsing like a heartbeat. "You cheapen it with such a simple word, Jean-Luc. It's more than love. It consumes my being, it carves a path through the very essence of what makes me whole." Q caught the flicker of genuine surprise on Picard's face, the faint color flush on his skin. It both delighted and terrified him. "You want direct confirmation, _fine_. I'll show you my hand, but I ask you show me yours in return. I love you, Jean-Luc, in every way you can imagine. I don't even know when it started. The very foundation of my life has changed course so that it both begins and ends with you, and I've fallen so hard and so painfully that the only solution I can find is to either leave you alone forever and never think of you again, or beg you to accept me."

Jean-Luc stared at Q for a good long moment, looking for some trace of deception or perhaps the punchline to a joke. When he found neither, he dropped his gaze and turned away. "In _King Lear_ , nettles were used to symbolize disorder of the mind. In _Hamlet_ , pain and cruelty."

"I know. It was _my_ riddle, remember?"

"So then, your feelings for me are… causing you pain? Disorder?"

"To put it mildly, yes. This sort of thing doesn't normally happen to the Q."

Picard sighed heavily and rubbed his temple. "Good lord. This is… Q, I don't even know what this _is_." He half turned to face the entity, and Q felt a small bloom of disappointment deep in his essence. Jean-Luc looked defensive, somehow. Like he was working to build a wall between them. "How can you possibly expect me to respond? After all this time, after everything that's happened?"

"You think this is easy for me?" Q growled, turning away and stomping to Picard's desk just to put extra distance between them. "All the wonders of the vast universe and beyond at my immediate disposal, and I keep coming back to this ship. To you. Do you have any idea how maddening that is?"

"Quite," Picard said wryly. Q shot him a glare.

"Oh very amusing, Picard. I'm sure you're loving this, aren't you? Watching me writhe like this?"

Jean-Luc leveled Q a slightly apologetic look. "No, not especially. I'm just trying to understand. Trying to… accept."

Q crossed his arms and assumed a position he hoped appeared sufficiently fractious, when actually it felt as though he were shaking apart from the inside. "You still don't trust me."

"Not completely, no," Jean-Luc replied. "Do you really expect me to?"

"That's _just_ like you, Jean-Luc!" Q exclaimed angrily, beginning to pace the floor in front of the desk. "Here I am, completely laid bare to your scrutiny, vulnerable as when I had my powers stripped away, confessing _undying devotion_ to you, and you respond with nonchalance and mistrust!"

"I hear your words, Q, but you should know that your words don't always count for much!" Jean-Luc shot back, his voice carrying a sharp edge of impatience. "I am not trying to discredit your… past attempts at being helpful, I am trying to hear you out, but you are going to _have_ to give me a bit of leeway in how I feel best appropriate to respond. It's not exactly an easy matter to process, having an alien entity you once considered a considerable threat to humanity confess romantic feelings for you."

Q vanished in a blink of light, only to immediately reappear a few feet from his previous position, sitting on the edge of Picard's desk. "How can I prove it to you?" he asked, expression somber. "Tell me what to do, anything at all, and I'll do it." He perked up suddenly. "Would it be easier if I took a female form?"

Jean-Luc put his hands up. "You don't need to _do_ anything. And your form isn't the problem."

A surge of elation coursed through Q's essence, and his human eyes reflected it. "Wait, really?" He leaned an elbow on his knee. "What about all the silly little gender preferences mortals deem oh-so important? I mean, _naturally_ I am aware you've felt sexual attraction to me before, namely when we were stuffed in that shuttlecraft together, but you humans can be sexually aroused by just about _anything_ , especially when your emotions are all wound up-"

Picard's complexion tinged pink. " _Q_."

Q sighed hugely. "Then what do you want me to do? Just _tell_ me, Jean-Luc, tell me what I can do to convince you!"

Jean-Luc took another step toward him. "It isn't that simple."

Q pressed his lips together firmly. He was capable of any feat in the universe, anything that Picard could ask for, and still he was being shunned. He felt a flicker of indignation, which quickly and woefully waned into hopelessness. "Fine." he declared evenly. "Just send me away, then. Maybe _that_ will convince you, hm? If I leave forever, never to pester you or your precious crew again, perhaps then you'll finally be persuaded."

The Captain stepped forward again, his face tightly drawn in a scowl. "If you'll just _listen_ -"

"And in the same breath I'm sure you'll be glad to be rid of me, won't you?" Q challenged bitterly, slipping defensibly into his usual curt and snarky veneer. It was almost a relief. The sensations vibrating in Q's core as of late were far too human to be remotely comfortable. "If all I am to you is a pest, then I'm sure this is a great deal for you, isn't it? I'm sure Riker will be thrilled to bits. Shall I contact the Deep Space Nine to let ol' micro-brain know, as well? Surely he'll send you a congratulatory gift basket."

As he ranted, Jean-Luc came nearer, his jaw set tightly, his stride confident. When he stopped, he was so close Q could feel his body heat radiating against his shins. "Q, if you could shut up for-"

"No, really, I know when to take a hint, Picard. I just wish you could have done me the _decency_ of-"

One last push and Picard had maneuvered between Q's knees, successfully silencing him once Q realized the alarming intimacy of their proximity. Before he could utter another word, Jean-Luc grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for a forceful kiss.

Every shred of Q's consciousness exploded into bright light. It took everything he had not to let his human guise fall to pieces and simply melt onto the Captain's desk, but the warmth of Jean-Luc's mouth and the faint tremble of his pulse through their joined lips brought Q crashing back to his physical body.

Q had promised himself he would not manipulate time or space during his time with Jean-Luc to help win his trust, but this silly vow was all but flung away when Q realized he couldn't bear to let the moment end quite so soon. He dragged out the seconds, working to memorize the softness of Picard's lips, the feeling of Picard's fingers dragging across the back of his neck and slipping through his hair. Something deep in Q's center ignited with unbridled affection and desire, plunging his consciousness into a delightfully floaty tailspin. How had he never known this? In all his eons of life, how had this one simple pleasure alluded him for so long? Q had seen things that mortal creatures could never hope to experience or comprehend, but nothing had ever felt like this. It went far beyond his physical form, touching him powerfully at his core.

Q reluctantly released his hold on the moment. The very instant Jean-Luc's lips pulled away, Q mourned the loss, staring at the Captain with wide, dark eyes full of pleasant surprise. In the short silence that followed, Q sought to fill it, though his mouth felt like it was full of cotton.

"Was that to... shut me up?" Q's voice was much softer than he'd intended.

Despite the hesitancy in his eyes, Jean-Luc offered a wry smile. "Partly. And partly to call your bluff."

"A-h _aaa_ h." Q frowned. "I don't remember making a bluff for you to call…?"

"Q, you are so frustratingly arrogant in your perception of humanity's place firmly under your metaphorical boot that you continue to assume my own actions, intentions and _yes_ \- _feelings_ \- before I can even sort them out myself. And you are often _wrong_. Infuriatingly so."

"But you-"

"No, Q, you are going to listen to _me_ now. You've had your fit and now I get to have mine, though mine will be considerably less dramatic, I think you'll find _._ " Picard placed his hands firmly on Q's knees, and Q was positive he'd just lost the ability to move. "Now listen to me, and listen to me closely. I don't have clear answers right now. At least, not the answers you may be looking for. So instead, I will tell you the things I know for certain: I don't want you to leave. I can't explain why just at the moment, and I'll ask you permit me to think on it at my own leisure. I accept your confession, Q, if only because I cannot think of a single reason why you would humiliate yourself like this unless it was the truth. My misgiving lies not in you, but in what makes us different." He sighed, his gaze dropping from Q's eyes to the collar of his fraudulent Starfleet uniform. "I need… time. And if you _are_ serious about your affections for me, you'll grant me at least that much."

Q shook the words around in his essence for a moment, his mortal frame pulsing with heat and a myriad of emotions he wasn't quite ready to deal with. He frowned. "Oh dear, there's something wrong with my talkie-face-part. I can't think of words to make it say."

"That's called being speechless, Q, and honestly I could do with seeing a little more of that from you."

All at once Q wanted everything, every touch, every sound, every sensation that two humans could share, but he firmly stifled that desire and attempted to be ( _Oh, no. Don't say it!_ ) patient. ( _Blast!_ )

"I want to kiss you again." Q blurted out instead.

"Q, have you been listening at all?" Jean-Luc asked with an exasperated sigh.

"I _have_ , I promise I have, but that was the single most exquisite thing I have ever experienced and if I don't feel it again, I'm certain I'll implode into nothingness."

Jean-Luc narrowed his eyes, but the corner of his mouth was tugged into an amused smirk. "Is that a threat of some kind?"

"No." Q shook his head, his eyes tracing the curve of that beautiful mouth hungrily. "More like a plea, Jean-Luc." With a hesitancy he rarely felt, Q raised a hand to experimentally touch the smooth skin of Jean-Luc's jaw. When met with no resistance, he slid his corporeal digits along that warm skin, delighting in the barely noticeable traces of stubble his weak human eyes couldn't pick up.

And then came the shocking realization: Jean-Luc was allowing himself to be touched by Q. Before, Q could barely get away with a friendly clap on the shoulder without receiving a murderous glare or defensive jerk, but now, Captain Picard was stationed between his knees, staring at him without contempt or suspicion, not swatting him away or dismissing him. Q was so happy he could sing, but he knew how much Jean-Luc detested that. ( _Besides, there is something else I would_ much _rather be doing_.)

They met each other in another kiss, more insistent and heady now that Q was a more clear-headed participant. Q breathed him in, barely withholding a whimper, some piece of him shooting up and out far above his body to safely expel the overload of pure joy his mortal form was too frail to contain. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to let his hands wander too far too quickly - he knew he was on thin ice as it was, and the mere fact that he was allowed to do what he was doing was too good to mess up, no matter how tempting.

The grip on Q's knees intensified. Q couldn't stifle a low groan, his lips parting experimentally to invite Picard inside. Jean-Luc angled his head to kiss him harder, responding to Q's parted lips by dipping his tongue inside lightly, running over Q's bottom row of teeth to sample the wet heat beyond. Something wound up tightly in Q's center, almost painful in its intensity. He grabbed Jean-Luc by the shoulders and in a flash of light their positions were reversed, Jean-Luc's backside pressed into the edge of his desk, Q pressing against him from in front, kissing him with hot fervor.

Jean-Luc pulled away from the kiss with a gasp, but Q's mind was too foggy to entertain the idea of stopping. He moved his lips to the Captain's jaw, pressing hot, insistent kisses to that smooth but stubbly skin, moving to the dip behind his ear, then the side of his neck. Jean-Luc let out a broken moan, and Q was even more delighted to hear the failed attempt to stifle it that came first. Q's hands slid down Jean-Luc's sides, gripping his hips possessively.

"A-ah, that's… that's enough," Jean-Luc placed his hands on Q's chest, pushing with only enough force to convey his request. "Q, stop."

As if Jean-Luc's words held some sort of supernatural power over him, Q pulled his mouth from Picard's neck, breathing hard, resting his forehead on Jean-Luc's shoulder to help ground himself in the current reality. They could both clearly feel the arousal of the other, but for Q, at least, trying to contain the sensation was like some new form of hideous torture.

"Sorry," Q panted, alarmed to find that he actually meant it. "I'm… new to this."

"I could say the same," Jean-Luc said, clearing his throat. He held Q's arms tightly, a silent request to stay near which caused that knot of longing in Q's essence to nearly strangle him with its need. "This is all going a little fast. I still have questions, concerns. Before we go farther than this."

Q stood up straight, eyes wide, trying hard not to think about how good it felt to kiss those lips, that jaw and throat so that he could focus on the matter at hand. "Farther than this…? Oh Jean-Luc, _please_ don't tease me right now... I don't think this puny mortal body can handle-"

"Dinner."

"Dinner?" Q's hands pulled Jean-Luc's hips a little closer. "I'm not sure I can pretend to be hungry for _food_ right now, Picard."

Jean-Luc's breath hitched subtly, and Q could clearly see that the Captain's resolve was dissolving just as quickly as his own. "Not now, later. I need time to… process all of this." Jean-Luc's eyes were dark and blown open, hazy with arousal, but he managed to level Q an earnest, insistent look. Q firmly pressed down his desire, desperate for the chance to prove himself capable of… something. Whatever 'farther than this' entailed.

Q pulled his hands away, taking a tame step back to give Jean-Luc space. "Alright. Dinner. When?"

"Tomorrow evening." Jean-Luc swallowed a lump in his throat. Q's desire throbbed.

"Where?"

"My cabin, if it's all the same to you."

"So... this is a date?" Q ventured, trying hard not to summon a marching band and do a happy dance.

Jean-Luc leaned back onto his desk, gripping the edge with both hands. "I suppose it is." His brows shot up in interest. "Is that too human of an activity for you?"

"Not at all, Jean-Luc." Q assured with a smile. "I asked you to allow me to prove my affections for you, and that's exactly what I intend to do."

"No tricks," Jean-Luc warned seriously. "I mean it. Just a normal, _real_ dinner between us so that we might discuss all of this."

Q stepped in close, grabbed up Jean-Luc's hand and pressed a chaste kiss to his knuckles. "Believe me, this will be the best evening of your life, _mon capitaine_. You can count on it."

In a flash of light Q was gone from the _Enterprise-E_ , soaring across the universe, unleashing a trail of condensed euphoria in the form of stardust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The true meaning of the stinging nettle is basically just Q exploiting what a Shakespeare nerd Picard is. #relationshipgoals  
> Onward to date night! I'm sure it will be a perfectly normal, average date. nothing to worry about no sir
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! The next chapter will be up soon. (´∇ﾉ｀*)ノ


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q decides to make their first date memorable. Jean-Luc is not surprised.

He'd made a terrible mistake.

The previous night's events were a jumble of heated emotions and ideas that Jean-Luc couldn't even begin to categorize. The moment Q had flashed out of his chambers, Jean-Luc found he could barely recognize himself. What had he been thinking? In what plane of reality was kissing Q an acceptable course of action? Just remembering the sordid details drove a knife of disgrace smartly into Jean-Luc's spine. Vivid memories of being pressed up against his own desk, the feel of Q's hands on his hips, lips on his neck leaving hot, unyielding kisses-

Jean-Luc shifted uncomfortably in the turbolift, putting a firm stop to those sorts of thoughts. It was a mistake, plain and simple. The whole ordeal had him behaving so unlike himself he nearly suspected Q had played with his mind and lowered his inhibitions, but the disturbing truth was that Jean-Luc knew better. He'd been completely in control the entire time, which is why his shame was so profound.

There was nothing for it now. Somehow, in his altered state of mind, he'd asked Q to dinner. Picard put his face in his hands, issuing a soft groan. Dinner. _With Q_. How had it come to this? What was he possibly expecting from this ridiculousness? He couldn't honestly entertain the idea of forging a relationship with Q, could he? It was madness. No, it was far more serious than that. Jean-Luc was fully aware that there were no Starfleet regulations that barred him from a personal relationship with a Q, but he was sure there were dozens of regulations that could be spun to strongly discourage it. And of course, there was the distinct possibility that such a relationship could potentially warrant regulations to become necessary, and the very thought chilled Picard to the bone.

The lift doors opened and Deanna entered, her dark eyes going wide with surprise when she spotted Picard inside. Realizing abruptly that he more than likely looked out-of-sorts Picard quickly corrected his posture, but he knew it was too late. Deanna offered him a charming smile, the doors sliding closed behind her as she stepped inside. "Deck 8," she instructed, and the lift began its descent. "Captain," she said in greeting.

"Counselor."

Deanna watched him out of the corner of her eye, and Picard could almost physically feel the tendrils of her empathetic prowess brushing the center of his anxieties.

"Sir, is everything alright?" Deanna asked predictably.

Picard smiled dismissively, staring intently at the lift doors, willing them to open quickly. "That is some matter of debate, presently." he replied.

Deanna frowned. "Between whom and whom?" she asked.

"Myself and myself." Jean-Luc answered with a tired sigh. "Everything's fine, Deanna, don't concern yourself. I can assure you it's nothing serious."

"Care to talk about it?" Deanna offered, once again, predictably. Picard opened his mouth to politely refuse, stopped himself, and then ordered the lift to halt. Deanna turned to her Captain with newfound interest, her expression the perfect example of rapt attention.

Jean-Luc turned to face her but stared at the floor, taking a moment to reevaluate the question he was about to ask. Finally, he spoke.

"At risk of making a highly unusual request, Counselor, I would very much like to know what you are sensing from me now, in this moment."

The woman cocked her head, worry shining in her eyes. "Is there a particular reason you need for me to tell you what you should already know?" she asked imploringly.

Jean-Luc smiled apologetically. "I'm looking for confirmation, Deanna. That's all. I want to be sure I'm the master of my own emotions in this moment."

Deanna's surprise was apparent, but quickly she complied. Her gaze became far away and she pressed her lips together, sculpted brows pinching in concentration.

"Well, I'm sensing a great deal of uncertainty. There is some… regret, as well, and concern. Nothing serious enough to be a threat to your command or your judgment, however. Not even a little."

Jean-Luc sighed and nodded, turning back toward the lift doors. "Yes, that sounds about right."

A dainty smile pulled at Deanna's lips and she hugged her arms. "That's not all. Underneath all of the negative emotion I sense excitement and anticipation."

Picard rounded on Deanna as though she'd just insulted his mother. Deanna couldn't suppress a pleased smile. "There's some... fondness there too, I think. Honestly Captain, I can't say I've ever sensed so many conflicting emotions from you all at once."

Picard's mouth tightened and he straightened his spine. "So what's got you so giddy?"

Deanna looked like she might laugh at any moment. "Well, forgive me for saying so sir, but… All of it together feels a lot like the typical beginnings of romance."

"Preposterous," Jean-Luc murmured, ordering the lift to continue.

Deanna's knowing smile didn't slip an inch. "Captain, could this have anything do with-"

"I would greatly appreciate a change of subject, Counselor. Tell me, how is your mother doing? Is she well?"

.

.

.

It was an uneventful day on the _Enterprise-E_ , which wasn't exactly unheard of, but Jean-Luc had rather hoped something might come up to belay the plans he'd regrettably made the night prior. He couldn't help but wonder if Q was somehow responsible for keeping his ship at maximum efficiency, but quickly reminded himself that he had the best starship in the galaxy and easily the most able crew; a problem-free day wasn't necessarily the work of an omnipotent being with dubious priorities. Worrying after things of this nature had been one of the things he intended to talk to Q about over dinner. One of the _many_ things.

His less than productive day had given him some time to mull over his own feelings. Deanna sensed emotions in him that he knew were there but hadn't been ready to face. He was curious. He wanted this, in some form, though he still wasn't convinced a relationship could work between two such radically different creatures. Regardless of his misgivings, he couldn't deny a certain brand of excitement to see Q tonight. Now that they'd both gotten most of the preliminary arguments out of the way, maybe they could _really_ talk, _really_ get to the bottom of things. If Q was even capable of something like that to begin with.

As Jean-Luc approached his cabin, he half-hoped Q wouldn't be terribly punctual. He wanted a shower and change of clothes, and possibly to set up an acceptably romantic atmosphere before he arrived, if Q hadn't already seen to it himself. He'd been the one to ask him to dinner, after all, so it seemed pointless - and mildly rude - to treat it differently than any other date he'd been on.

The doors to Jean-Luc's quarters slid open and the Captain stepped inside. An instant later, he was somewhere else.

It happened between the blinking of his eyes. One second he was looking at his cabin - nothing changed, nothing unusual - and the next he was standing inside the doorway to what looked to be a refined, classically decorated restaurant. Jean-Luc stood perfectly still, taking in his new surroundings with a discerning eye, his gaze falling down to regard his own body which was now dressed smartly in a fitted black tuxedo from a different time. Mid 20th century, perhaps?

A man wearing a similar tuxedo and a gracious smile came near, clasping his hands together. "Ah, you must be Monsieur Jean-Luc Picard! Welcome to _Le Taillevent_! Please allow me to show you to your seat, your companion has already arrived."

It took Jean-Luc a moment to realize he was being spoken to in 20th century French, though he found he could understand without any difficulty. Jean-Luc glanced over his shoulder, back at the door that was his own when he'd first gone through it but appeared now as glass double-doors with ' _Le Taillevent_ ' written in white, flowing print. Through the well-crafted glass Jean-Luc could see a busy city street populated with people and ancient cars; although this scene existed centuries before Jean-Luc called it home, he knew France well enough to recognize it easily.

"Is there something the matter, _Monsieur_?"

Jean-Luc turned to the maître d', forcing a pleasant smile. "Not at all. If I may ask a rather strange question, what year is this, and what city are we in?"

The man blinked at him, his smile slipping by the smallest of margins. "Ah... It is 1953, _Monsieur_. Paris."

Jean-Luc nodded, sighing through his nose. "Of course it is." He needlessly straightened his jacket, smoothing his hands over the silky lapels. "Alright. I'm ready."

The maître d' led Jean-Luc into the lavish dining area, which was, quite simply, a scene of classic beauty. Overhead, glittering chandeliers dangled from high, sculpted ceilings, hanging over round tables with ornate chairs. Large pots overflowing with creeping vines and tall ferns sat strategically around the space, nestled under windows and sitting on either side of a lovely rustic staircase that spiraled up to a second floor.

Jean-Luc was led past the more public section of the dining area to a private room to the far left of the stairs, and the maître d' pulled a deep crimson curtain aside to allow Jean-Luc inside. Fine art adorned the red and gold walls and flickering candlelight cast a romantic, dim light throughout the space. A single table sat near the far wall, and Jean-Luc's eyes met the table's only occupant, who greeted him with a fond grin as though they were work buddies joining each other for a nice dinner to discuss business.

"Jean-Luc, so good of you to make it," Q chirped, standing up politely so that he might gesture for the Captain to steal the seat across from him. He was dressed in a matching tuxedo, a purple flower pinned to his breast pocket. "I do hope you didn't have any trouble getting here, traffic this time of day is simply ghastly."

Jean-Luc sighed deeply, making his way to his assigned seat without fuss. Q sat back down with a flourish.

"Is there anything I can get for the two of you while I fetch your waiter?" the maître d' asked them courteously.

"Some of your finest red wine, if you please," Q answered easily, waving the man off without casting him a single glance. "Now off with you, be gone."

" _Q_." Jean-Luc leveled Q a sharp look.

Q grimaced somewhat. "I mean, of course, thank you so much for your exemplary service, _Monsieur_." The maître d' smiled and left, and Q let out a breath he'd been holding. "Being polite is hard."

"Only if you are wholly unaccustomed to the concept." Jean-Luc answered curtly. He sighed, glancing around. "Q, I thought I told you no tricks."

Q's expressive eyes widened in innocent bewilderment. "Sir, I promise there are no tricks here, nor anywhere! I followed your request to the letter!"

Jean-Luc leaned forward, shooting daggers at Q with his eyes. "You call all of this 'following my request'?"

"Quite. You asked for no tricks. Time travel is no trick, Jean-Luc, you of all people should know that. This is all as real as your _Enterprise_ , I assure you."

There was no arguing that point, not really, so Jean-Luc sat back in his seat and tried to relax his tense muscles. "So we're really here, in 1953? Paris? You've brought us back in time?"

Q smirked. "Only for the date. I haven't kidnapped you, Jean-Luc. You just say the word and we're back on your precious ship faster than you can finish your sentence, you have my word."

"Isn't this dangerous?" Jean-Luc asked. "Could we alter the timeline by being here?"

"By eating dinner? Surely not. Even if we did, I could easily make it as though we were never here. Though, I'd rather not, so don't do anything _too_ outlandish, _mon capitaine_." He leaned forward, offering Jean-Luc a wheedling grin. "Come on, admit it. Best first date _ever_."

"One usually judges the success of a date after it's over, not before it's begun," Jean-Luc reminded, smiling despite himself.

"So you're not upset?" Q asked curiously.

"Would you rather I be?"

Q shrugged casually, leaning back once again. "It might be more 'you' if you were."

"Well, give it time." Jean-Luc answered with a chuckle. "Though… For now, provided this trip through time doesn't end up thoroughly disastrous, I am here to have a pleasant time."

"There are _other_ ways to have a pleasant time, you know," Q purred suggestively.

"Q."

"Sorry, sorry. I'll behave."

Their waiter arrived to bring them wine and bread, leaving shortly after having answered Jean-Luc's questions about the menu. Q brought his glass of wine close to his face, inhaling slowly. "Mm. Good year." He sipped it. "I think. I honestly have no idea what constitutes a 'good year' when it comes to glorified fruit juice. Aren't they all the same?"

"You're going to be eating and drinking, Q?" Jean-Luc asked.

"Of course! This is a date, Jean-Luc, it would be rude of me not to partake." He set down his glass, clearly not impressed with its contents. "Did you expect me to just sit here and watch you enjoy yourself? Wait, actually, that doesn't sound so bad now that I've said it out-loud."

Jean-Luc laughed through his nose. "I would much prefer you join me, if we're going to do this. At least for the sake of decorum." He sipped his own wine, marveling at the flavor. Picard knew well the practice that went into wine-making - it hadn't changed much in several hundred years - but the flavor was still sharply unique, a relic of time, impossible to duplicate or falsify with the technology of a replicator. He set down his glass, glancing up at the entity sitting across from him. "Q, why did you bring me here, specifically to this time?" Jean-Luc asked.

Q's eyes were watching him closely, lit up in intrigue. "Not everything I do has some grand meaning. I threw a dart and it landed on 1953. As for Paris, you know exactly why. You love it here. I thought maybe seeing it in the flesh long before your time might have been… _nice_ for you."

"Well… It is." Jean-Luc sighed, rubbing his temple. "I guess I should thank you."

Q rolled his eyes. "No need to gush, Picard, really. You're embarrassing me."

"I'm sorry, it's just… This is all very new. Although you still managed to take things too far, I understand why you did. And I suppose this is a far-cry from parading around a simulated forest in green tights."

"Just when _will_ you let that go?" Q asked wryly. "If it's any consolation, you looked absolutely dreamy in them."

The waiter reappeared to take the men's orders. Once he'd taken them down, he left them again, and Q sighed in irritation once the curtain closed. "Do they have to keep coming in like that? What was the point of reserving a 'private' room, anyway?" His dark eyes flicked to Picard when he got no response, studying his expression. "Uh-oh, you've gone all quiet. Don't tell me your good sense is finally kicking in."

"No, not yet," Jean-Luc replied. He latticed his hands on the table, squaring his shoulders. "Q, we have to talk."

He'd been expecting some resistance, but shockingly, Q matched him without a shred of mockery to be found in his posture.

"I know."

Jean-Luc's expression softened, breathing an internal sigh of relief. "This entire situation is not… quite as disagreeable to me as it perhaps ought to be," he began. "Years ago, I never would have imagined it possible, but I can't deny that I have certain - _feelings_ \- for you. Not after…" Images of their kiss popped into his mind without warning, and Picard strongly willed them away, annoyed at his body for how quickly it reacted to the memory, "...last night. It would be silly to claim otherwise, at this point."

"It _really_ would." Q teased gently.

"My trepidation, at risk of offending you, is that the both of us may hold very different ideas of what a romantic relationship is meant to imply." Jean-Luc said seriously. "I don't take relationships lightly, Q, when I _do_ take them. I need some sort of reassurance that you mean for this to be something more than a momentary distraction in your immortal existence."

Q's expression betrayed passionate indignation for a fleeting moment before melting into something like reluctant understanding. He leaned far back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fair enough." He locked his eyes on Picard's, candlelight dancing off of his features. "I'll try and explain as best I can, but I warn you, I don't know much more about all this than you do. I can't promise you anything more than a human could, Jean-Luc... Humans are just as flighty and superficial as you fear I might be."

"I am perfectly aware. I'm not trying to hold you to some impossible standard, Q, but it's difficult to ignore the fact that your lifespan is astronomically longer than our own. _My_ own. I'm having a hard time believing that a Q pursuing a relationship with a mortal - even for a passing friendship - would benefit them in any meaningful way."

Q's eyes showed a little more sincerity and he abandoned his blasé posture, sitting forward, pulling his chair closer to the table. "Well, that's why it's almost never done. It's never _been_ done, if the Continuum has anything to say about it." He offered a small smile. "My fixation on you, as you know, has already caught the Continuum's attention for that reason."

"Could a relationship with me cause issues between you and the Continuum?" Jean-Luc asked, forgetting to mask his concern. Q seemed to appreciate it.

"Not likely. I don't think they would consider something like this worthy of their time at the moment."

"But it's worthy of yours?"

"Absolutely." Q said sincerely. "Perhaps I already mentioned this - several times, in fact, and at least once in the form of a flower - but I adore you, Jean-Luc. I'm not just trying to alleviate boredom. You have never been boring, and I expect you never will. I've never felt this before, what I feel for you."

Jean-Luc was ashamed at how Q's words made his neck heat up, and firmly stifled a new wave of desire that hit him hard in his stomach and loins. He pulled emergency reserves of resolve from somewhere and pressed on. "In all the eons you've lived, you've never been in love?" he asked. "Don't the Q have companions? Relationships?"

Q shrugged, looking as though he hadn't given the issue much thought, which knowing Q, he probably hadn't. "Sometimes, I suppose. I've been in something of a relationship or two - nothing _exclusive_ \- but it's different. We have no need to procreate, so we don't fraternize for the same purposes mortals do. I think it goes without saying that we don't possess the same emotional and physical needs. It's more about familiarity among those we consider equals. I don't need to remind you how the Q generally view mortals in comparison to themselves."

"No, indeed you don't." Jean-Luc took a long drink of his wine, having almost forgotten the potency of the flavor on his tongue. "Do you still share those views?"

Q took a moment to consider. "I've learned differently, thanks to you. I can't promise you I'll win humanitarian of the millennia award anytime soon, but I can assure you that I think of you as my equal. Doubtlessly." He smirked. "I may enjoy teasing you from time to time, but not to torment you, not anymore. I know you're more than capable of dealing with me."

Jean-Luc found himself smiling back. "Don't forget that." he commanded.

"But really now, Jean-Luc, this is starting to sound like an interrogation! This is a date, is it not? I should be allowed some questions of my own."

Jean-Luc couldn't think of a single reason to object. "That's only fair, considering. Fire away."

Q leaned forward and steepled his fingers, an eager glint in his eye. "How _good_ did it feel to kiss me?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

The wineglass halted en route to Jean-Luc's lips, and his eyes flicked up to regard Q with a stony glare. "A question like that isn't typically considered appropriate on a first date." he pointed out curtly.

"Neither is comparing lifespans or questioning the validity of one's affections for another on the basis of immortality. Face it, Jean-Luc, nothing about us is typical. Typical is boring." He made a rolling motion with his hand. "Now come on, I'm waiting."

Jean-Luc conceded with a subtle - but extremely rewarding - eyeroll. "It felt good to shut you up for once. Truly a triumph for mankind."

"Admit it, Picard, you liked it." Q continued. "If the state of your body was any indication, you enjoyed it almost as much as I did."

"Of course I enjoyed it," Jean-Luc answered in a quieter voice, flushing under the collar. "I'm not made of neutronium, Q, I'm flesh and blood. It's expected in that sort of situation."

Q pushed his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout, resting his chin in his hand. "It had nothing whatsoever to do with the incredibly handsome, irresistible company?"

Jean-Luc grinned and plucked a piece of bread from the basket. "I wouldn't have asked you to dinner if that were the case, would I?" He took a bite out of his slice, once again overwhelmed by the unique flavor. To his delight, Q had gone pleasantly mute, too wide-eyed and curiously flush in the face to reply. Jean-Luc pushed the basket gently in Q's direction, pleased with his small victory. "Enough questions for now. Indulge me for the moment and pretend to eat, Q."

For the next several minutes, Jean-Luc and Q ate bread and drank together. No scathing remarks, no quips, no tiresome banter, just comfortable silence in a romantic atmosphere. A quarter hour later their waiter returned bearing hors d'oeuvres - chicken liver pâté and caviar - and the men thanked their server and sampled the food, chatting idly as they ate. If Picard closed his eyes, he was sure he wouldn't know the difference between this particular evening and any other date he'd ever been on, if not for the fact that he was drinking wine and eating caviar in the year 1953 with a near omnipotent entity sitting across from him in a full-dress tuxedo.

Suddenly, it all seemed so terrifically absurd, so laughable, that Jean-Luc could hardly contain himself. It started as an amused chuckle, and soon erupted into a hearty chortle, gaining Q's immediate attention and - even more hilariously - his concern.

"Jean-Luc, I don't believe I've ever seen you laugh before," Q observed wondrously, as Jean-Luc's laughter ebbed. "I'm not sure whether to be flattered or deeply disturbed. I think I'll opt for both."

"It's just…" Jean-Luc wiped his hand over his mouth, nearly out of breath from his outburst. "I just fully realized what we were doing here. The full, unadulterated truth of it." He couldn't help but let another chuckle tumble out. He laid his face in his hands and tried to stop, shoulders jerking from the effort. "And it's _ludicrous_."

He heard Q issue a merry chuckle and felt oddly relieved that the entity wasn't taking offense. "Well it's good to know I've succeeded in amusing you, my dearly beloved," Q quipped.

Jean-Luc let out a calming breath through his lips, wiping the corner of his eye. "Don't misunderstand, I'm having a fine time here with you, all things considered. I just can't help but think about how I would have felt several years ago if I'd known I would be here now, willingly having dinner with you."

"How does it make you feel now?" Q inquired curiously.

Jean-Luc smoothed his hand over the front of his jacket, marveling at the droves of vivid emotion his laughter seemed to shake free inside him. He considered his next words carefully. "Fine." he said, smiling. "Just fine, I think."

A small but pleasantly surprised smile crept onto Q's face. "Jean-Luc… My my, you are full of surprises, as always," he mused. "Whatever has come over you?"

"I'm not quite sure myself. I fear I may be in the process of suggesting something incredibly foolhardy in a moment, but before then, I have one last question for you."

Q offered a half-hearted eyeroll, but Jean-Luc could tell he was interested by the way he leaned forward and stretched his neck just slightly to hear him better. Jean-Luc met him halfway, leaning on his elbows. "Why did you really create that flower for me?" he asked. "Why confess to me in such an indirect way? I'm curious."

Q groaned dramatically and lay his head against the top of the table. "You know Jean-Luc, for being born in such a notably romantic land, you certainly don't know much about romance."

"Just answer the question," Jean-Luc urged.

Q sat up, sighing. "The truth? Or a humorous but clever rebuttal?"

"The truth, if you please."

Rubbing his hands over his face, Q stood up and began languidly pacing the small room, crossing his arms over his chest. "Because I was…" he said his next word in a hushed whisper, " _frightened_ , if you must know." He stopped near Jean-Luc's chair, throwing the Captain a comically tortured grimace. "Oh _please_ don't make me continue, Jean-Luc, this is incredibly humiliating."

Jean-Luc flicked his wrist in Q's direction impatiently. "Continue," he instructed.

Q sighed hugely and resumed his pacing. "I was a coward, alright?" he said resignedly. "I couldn't stand the thought of telling you outright and facing rejection. The fear of it was overwhelming in the worst way. I thought if I gave you the choice - the power, if you will, to either bring me back or keep me at a distance - then somehow it would be easier. But it wasn't." He stopped again, frowning at the floor. "Far from it, actually." He tilted his head to throw a glare at Picard. "Ooh you are a wicked, wicked man for making me say all this, you know that? Do you enjoy watching me stumble other these wretched, icky feelings?"

Jean-Luc chuckled again, standing up from his chair. "Quite." He straightened his jacket, leveling Q a penetrating look. "Q, I'd like to return to the _Enterprise_ , please. My quarters."

"What!" Q rounded on him, his eyes flashing with vexation. "Come now, we haven't even gotten to the dinner bit yet!" He swept his arm at the table as if it were exhibit A. "And I had a whole tour of ancient Paris planned which would have knocked your socks off!"

Jean-Luc shrugged. "Well it's entirely up to your personal preference, but I thought it might be easier to have sexual relations in my bedchambers than here in the restaurant. Though I suppose you did reserve us a private room."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I don't think I need to tell you guys that smut is going to happen in the next chapter, but smut is going to happen in the next chapter.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ* I love hearing from you guys!


	5. Chapter 5

Everything stopped. _Q_ stopped. His very being seemed to freeze to the spot, pouting lips parting slightly to issue the smallest of broken gasps while the rest of him went ghostly white. Jean-Luc could hardly appreciate his small victory while he was equally awash in desire, but for a flash he couldn't help but lament that he didn't have a photo to commemorate the occasion.

When Q's color began to return so did his mobility, and he was upon Jean-Luc in seconds, hands reclaiming their place on his slim hips, pressing him back into the wall beside the table. Q's lips were crushing over his, desperate and needy, and Jean-Luc made certain he was giving back every ounce of enthusiasm Q was pulling from him as they grabbed and pulled at each other like lovesick adolescents. Throwing his decency to the wind Jean-Luc twined his arms around Q's neck, yanking him closer, opening his mouth to invite Q's tongue inside. Q responded with fervor, growling into Jean-Luc's mouth, hiking his hips up roughly to set the Captain haphazardly on the edge of their dinner table. Jean-Luc grunted and squeezed Q's waist between his thighs, his fingers scraping the back of Q's neck, raking through his hair.

Q pulled away to map a path along Picard's jaw, grinding his pelvis into the other man's to make his hardness known. "Amazing... _amazing,_ you're so incredibly amazing," he murmured heatedly, yanking Jean-Luc's collar down to sample the skin of his neck. "Please don't tell me to stop this time, Jean-Luc, because I'm not at all sure that it's currently within my power to do so."

Jean-Luc groaned and bucked his own arousal against Q's in reply, causing the entity to shudder. "A-ah, but what about the tour you had planned?" he asked with a breathy chuckle. "I'd hate to disturb your - _ahh_ \- grand plans for our evening,"

"Oh please, disturb away, I _implore_ you." Q moaned, moving his lips back to Jean-Luc's mouth to kiss him hotly for another long moment. His hands roamed the Captain's back, fingers pressing insistently into the thick material of his tuxedo. Jean-Luc shivered under his touch, hazily wondering what those hands would feel like on his skin, alarmed at the surge of desire that shot through him at the thought. Q pulled away again to nibble on Picard's earlobe. "I want to touch you," Q breathed, fanning the flame of desire that was blooming so profoundly in the Captain's body. "Please oh _please_ Jean-Luc, I need to touch last every inch of you or I'll lose whatever is left of my mind."

For once, Jean-Luc couldn't agree more. "My quarters. Take us there. Uhh-" He laid a hand on Q's arm before the entity could snap his fingers, somehow regaining enough coherence to remember his Earth history. "In the... 20th century, businesses and restaurants still required currency for services-"

"Don't worry," Q grinned, clearly in no mood to argue the point, "I'll leave a _huge_ tip."

Before Jean-Luc could begin to ascertain what a 'tip' was, Q snapped his fingers and they were back in Picard's chambers, pulling each other into another forceful kiss. Jean-Luc realized they were still dressed up in their tuxedos, though some devious part of him was disappointed that Q hadn't simply brought them back naked to save them the trouble. His own urgency alarmed him, but he couldn't be bothered to worry about it while Q's tongue was coiling so perfectly around his own and demanding hands roamed his body, desperate to feel the skin under the clothes.

Jean-Luc grabbed Q by the waist, pulling their hips flush, stumbling backwards toward his bed. They tumbled onto it, their lips not breaking contact for a moment. Jean-Luc issued a soft grunt when his back hit the mattress, and Q leaned his knees on the edge of the bed, hovering over the Captain while working to blindly unbutton Jean-Luc's jacket and shirt. Picard pulled away from their kiss with a soft chuckle.

"All the powers in the universe… and you take the time to undress me…?" he asked, arching his back to help Q pull off his jacket. Q laughed, tossing the jacket aside and shrugging off his own.

"Are you kidding me? It's so much more satisfying to peel you out of our clothes piece by piece." he purred, tugging open the front of Picard's dress shirt and eagerly lowering his head to lay kisses to the exposed skin. Jean-Luc dragged a breath through his teeth, shutting his eyes and allowing his fingers leverage in Q's hair. "Waiting isn't something I've ever explored, you know… In fact, 'waiting' wasn't a concept I'd been personally acquainted with until recently, so I intend to use it to my full advantage." Q's teeth grazed the pale skin of Picard's chest, his lips brushing through a patch of greying chest hair. "Oooh, and how rewarding it can be," he growled, leaving a soft bite on Jean-Luc's right pectoral.

Jean-Luc groaned with need, the back of his head digging into the sheets. "Tell me what you like," Picard gasped, his mind threatening to fall blank as Q lavished his chest with kisses, licks and bites, pulling his dress-shirt wide open to begin a downward descent. "Tell me - _ah_ \- what you enjoy, what's pleasurable to you." His breath hitched when Q's tongue rolled over his taut stomach, his chin brushing the front of Jean-Luc's black slacks. "Tell me how to pleasure a Q."

"You already are, believe me," Q breathed, unfastening the Captain's slacks and yanking them down and off, letting loose a shaky sigh at the sight of Picard's erection bulging from within his briefs. He bent over and nuzzled Jean-Luc's clothed cock, earning him a sharp intake of breath and a gentle moan. Q's tongue slipped past his lips to lap over the delicious bulge, and Jean-Luc let his arm fall over his eyes, groaning from the sensation. It had been a long while since he'd found himself this worked up. Was it because it was Q? Had he been harboring these feelings all this time and simply hadn't realized? Picard couldn't be sure, but he was in no fit state to sort it out at the moment, not when Q's lips were mouthing hungrily over his covered cock and his saliva was wetting the thin material of his shorts.

"I want you to want this," Q moaned softly, sliding his hands up Jean-Luc's sides. "I've wanted you so badly, Jean-Luc. And now that I have you, I want you to want me just as much."

Jean-Luc chuckled. "It's comforting to know you're as selfish as ever, even now," he mused.

"I'm serious," Q reprimanded gently, hooking his fingers under the belt of Jean-Luc's briefs, laying a kiss over the swollen bulge beneath. "You don't know what this feels like, you know, you really don't. This craving, this need, so wildly foreign to me and yet somehow so hopelessly entwined with my being that it almost feels like I've become a prisoner to it. The Q aren't meant to feel this particular brand of desire. We're just not."

Jean-Luc propped himself onto his elbows, looking down at Q with a concerned expression. "Q, if this is somehow harming you-"

"No no, that's not what I mean," Q laughed, pulling himself up to kiss Jean-Luc on the mouth. His fingers tugged Jean-Luc's undershorts down around his thighs, freeing his aching cock. Q pulled away and his dark, hungry gaze glided down to Jean-Luc's exposed organ, a shuddering breath catching in his throat, his fingers reaching out to trail gently over the flushed, velvety head before taking the pulsing organ in his hand to rub his thumb over the leaking tip. Jean-Luc groaned and bucked his hips into the entity's hand, earning him another kiss, sloppy and hot. Their mouths pulled apart, breathing hard against one another's lips. "You're right, I'm being selfish," Q panted, giving Picard's cock a firm stroke. "I want you, all of you, I can't have you fast enough, and I want you to feel the same for me."

"Did I or did I not ask you to bring us back here in the middle of dinner?" Jean-Luc challenged, struggling to keep his voice even through the haze of overwhelming pleasure Q was giving him. It was a losing battle. "I want this, Q. If my physical body isn't proof enough, shall you take a dip into my mind to see for yourself?"

Q's penetrating eyes found Picard's and held his gaze, glittering with that same intensity Jean-Luc remembered seeing over three months ago. In a moment it was over and Q was kissing him again with newfound desperation, pushing him back onto the bed. A warm, slick substance materialized in Q's palm, and he pumped Jean-Luc's cock with delighted adamancy.

"I see it but I can't believe it," he chuckled, kissing Jean-Luc's neck and breathing in his moans. "I love you, Jean-Luc, I adore you, I _worship_ you…"

"Prove it," Jean-Luc groaned, hips jutting helplessly into Q's warm, wet hand. "I want to feel you, Q. Get these blasted clothes off."

Q was only too happy to comply. The tuxedo was gone in the blink of an eye and the men came together again, worming onto the center of the bed, Q's hand not slowing in its determined task. Jean-Luc ran his hands along Q's back, fingers pressing into his mortal flesh, feeling the tense ripple of muscles play under the skin. It was all too much; Q's hand on his cock and his tongue licking the inside of his mouth, hot bodies pressed together in frantic, heated passion... Picard would have laughed if he weren't so turned on. He could feel his body climbing to its inevitable climax, threatening to break him apart, and in a desperate attempt to drag out the pleasure Jean-Luc grabbed Q by the arms and flipped them over, pinning him to the bed. Q's eyes blew wide in surprise, a pleased grin tugging at his lips.

"Jean-Luc," he purred, groaning when Jean-Luc bent over him to kiss his collarbone, grazing his teeth gently over the heated skin.

"Can you feel this?" Jean-Luc asked softly as Q writhed under him, exploring the entity's body with his hands. "Is this body really capable of such mortal pleasures?"

Q gasped, arching his back to press up into Picard with purpose. "Y-you have to ask?" he groaned.

"I'd like to hear you say it," Jean-Luc chuckled, exploring Q's smooth chest with his mouth and tongue as Q had done to him. "How much of this body is you? How connected to "Q" are you right now?"

Q slid his hands down Jean-Luc's back, grabbing his ass tightly and earning a heated groan and a gentle bite over his nipple. Q's eyes fluttered closed, letting loose a broken sigh when their throbbing erections slid together, Jean-Luc's cock still slick with lube.

"This form is as much 'me' as it can be while adhering to the restrictions of human mortality," Q tried to explain between moans. "Though, these sensations are a very, _very_ welcome addition to the human experience." His hand snaked between their bodies, seeking out Jean-Luc's erection. "Now, let me-"

Jean-Luc stopped his hand, holding it tight in his own. He moved his mouth up to Q's neck, nibbling over his throat. "Together," he said firmly. He led Q's hand down, interlacing his fingers with his own to encircle their hands around both of their cocks. The immediate tightness and friction caused them both to groan, and Q produced more lube to help the process along.

"Jean-Luc…!" Q cried out and arched his back, his breathing ragged as they pumped each other with increasing ferocity. Jean-Luc stared down at him, surprised at the raw vulnerability he saw peeled back, the genuine ecstasy knitted in Q's features. Looking at him now, unraveling in pleasure, it was impossible to believe Q was an ancient god-like being with unfathomable dimensional power. At the same time, it brought Jean-Luc an overwhelming sense of satisfaction… And it humbled him, if he was being honest with himself. Was it really possible that out of all the beings in the vast universe and beyond, Q had chosen him? Why him? And why now?

Those inquiries melted away with Q's next moan, and suddenly Picard was overcome with savage desire. He crushed his mouth over Q's, bucking his length into their slick fists, the sensation of Q's hardened flesh rubbing tightly against his own making it difficult to think with any clarity. A firm knot of pressure was threatening to burst in the bottom of Jean-Luc's stomach, and he could feel Q's cock twitching against his own with purpose.

Their kiss broke as they neared their mutual release. Jean-Luc buried his face in the crook of Q's neck, panting his name while Q moaned and clawed at Picard's back with his free hand.

"Please, please oh _please_ ," Q begged mindlessly, his hips rutting on their own, his face and chest flushed red. "Jean-Luc _please_ …!"

"Come," Jean-Luc cried hoarsely, frantically climbing toward that same beautiful threshold. "I've got you."

A few more well-timed strokes and Q came with a wail, ropes of come splattering hot over their stomachs. The feeling of Q's messy release sent Jean-Luc over the edge, and he came forcefully into their locked hands, his body going rigid against Q's convulsing form. He held Q tightly against him, pressing long kisses to his neck, feeling the entity's faux pulse throbbing wildly against his lips.

They calmed, and they stilled. Jean-Luc collapsed next to Q, fighting to win his breath back, laying a kiss to Q's shoulder. Part of him worried that Q would leave in his usual flighty fashion, but the entity wormed closer, body still heated and slightly slick with sweat and cum. He was oddly quiet, prompting Jean-Luc to pull himself up on his elbow, looking down at him curiously.

"Are you alright?"

Q grinned, his dark eyes filled to the brim with affection. "Oh, I'm stupendous, Jean-Luc. Phenomenal." He sighed lightly. "I may have to respectfully retract my previous statements regarding the overall dullness of human existence. No wonder you all have so much sex, it's _amazing_."

Jean-Luc chuckled and bent down to press a kiss to Q's mouth. "So glad to have helped you expand your horizons."

Q reached up and touched Jean-Luc's jaw, tracing all the spots he'd kissed. "Please don't tell me you regret it," he begged sincerely, all humor gone, "because I am so deliriously happy right now I want to write your name with nine-hundred billion stars in every corner of the universe."

Jean-Luc grinned and placed his hand over Q's, pulling it away to kiss his palm. "That won't be necessary, but I appreciate the thought." He held Q's hand tightly in his own and locked eyes with him, holding his gaze. "I don't regret anything. This might take some getting used to, but I'm more than willing to try. Though, there are going to have to be some ground rules."

"Always with the rules and regulations," Q drawled, yanking Picard's hand toward his own mouth to kiss his knuckles in retaliation. "It's a good thing you caught me in a good mood, _mon capitaine_." He pushed himself up to kiss Jean-Luc deeply, gently pushing him flat on his back, moving his mouth in a deliberate path of kisses along Picard's jaw, neck and chest. Jean-Luc groaned.

"You'll not distract me, Q," Jean-Luc murmured hoarsely.

"Oh I wouldn't _dream_ of it," Q purred menacingly, straddling Jean-Luc's legs. He amorously lapped the cum off of Jean-Luc's stomach with his tongue, humming in satisfaction, swallowing it all as if it were something delicious and rare. Picard groaned, feeling a bloom of heat in his loins and an urgent stirring in his cock. Q smiled against Jean-Luc's skin, noting the change. "I'm sure you can maintain a clear head no matter what I get up to. Ground rules, proceed."

" _Aah_ \- Q, what in the-" Jean-Luc's cock was somehow at full attention, stiff and pulsing, as though he hadn't just come harder than he had in years a mere couple of minutes ago. "What have you done?"

Q's full lips twisted into a grin and he lay a hot kiss to the flushed tip of Jean-Luc's cock, earning a sharp gasp and a fluttering moan. He licked his wet lips. "I've only replenished your nitric oxide levels and removed the refractory period altogether. However, my dear Captain, this beautiful excitement is all yours." Without the slightest warning, Q bent over and took Jean-Luc's entire length into his mouth. Picard cried out, cursing under his breath.

"Q… Dammit, Q, I'm t-trying… to…"

( _I can't help myself, Jean-Luc… I want you too much_.) Picard could hear Q's voice clearly in his mind - not the first time, he recalled blearily - though it was especially disarming to hear it as he watched Q deep-throat his dick. ( _Don't stop talking. I want to hear you, I need to hear that perfect voice while I'm giving you pleasure_.)

Jean-Luc struggled to keep his senses from falling to pieces while Q devoured him to the hilt, feeling his tongue wrap around the hot, tightened flesh of his cock to drag his mouth back up the length with tantalizing slowness. It was entirely possible, despite Q's objections to the contrary, that Q was trying to distract him - and it was working splendidly - but Jean-Luc refused to be deterred so easily. Somehow, the idea of laying down rules while Q passionately sucked his cock was alluring in an entirely new and welcome way.

"Th-there is to be no interference with my ship, crew or any of ou- _aaah, ooh_... or any of our missions, for starters."

Q's lips circled tightly around the base of Jean-Luc's cock and dragged up, licking the underside of the shaft. ( _I expected that one, of course_.) Even Q's disembodied voice sounded vaguely breathy. ( _Can I at least keep you company on the Enterprise from time to time? Or is this going to be a secret, bedroom-only relationship?_ )

"You are welcome aboard anytime," Jean-Luc panted. He shut his eyes and groaned as Q pushed his thighs further apart, twirling his tongue over the head of his cock. "I encourage it. I'm not telling you to stay away. Just - _haah_ , just know that I expect you to behave like one of my crew while you're onboard. No interfering, and n-no tricks. Fair?"

( _Fair_.) Q moaned deep in his throat, sending sweet vibrations into Jean-Luc's loins. Jean-Luc shut his eyes, issuing a deep sigh from his chest. ( _Oh, Jean-Luc… You taste so good, so perfect, I will never forget this taste, this smell.._.)

" _Good lord_ , Q…" Jean-Luc pressed his knuckles to his eyes, feeling close to his second orgasm of the night. "I can't… _Ahh_ , you feel so good, I…"

( _Keep going_ ,) Q whispered to him, pulling his mouth from Jean-Luc's cock with a slick pop, moving his efforts to the Captain's testicles, sucking them into his mouth. ( _Come on, tell me more of these stipulations of yours_. _I love it when you lay down the law_.)

Picard drew in a trembling breath. "Absolutely n-no whipping me or my crew through time and space without gaining my… expressed permission first."

( _Does this rule extend to dimensions?_ ) Q inquired wryly, trailing his tongue back up the length of Picard's cock, lapping the precum at the tip.

"That includes - _ooh_ , _Q_ \- dimensions, yes,"

( _Shoot, I shouldn't have asked!_ ) Q doubled his efforts, bobbing his head greedily and with a singular purpose in mind. Jean-Luc's back bowed and he cried out; Q firmly held down his hips, taking Jean-Luc's cock deep into his throat. Picard came hard into Q's mouth, lights flickering behind his eyelids and Q swallowed every thick spurt, groaning in satisfaction, pulling his mouth away only once Jean-Luc's cock had ceased to twitch and begun to soften. When Jean-Luc opened his eyes, Q was staring down at him, eyes intensely focused on his face.

"Beautiful," Q murmured distantly, running his hand over Jean-Luc's stomach.

"Q," Jean-Luc moaned, "shut up and kiss me already."

Q grinned, lips shining with saliva and cum. "What, all out of rules?"

"I'll think of more later," Jean-Luc answered, sitting up to grab Q's shoulders, pulling him close, "right now I can't think of anything but this."

They kissed hard, falling down together on their sides, legs tangling and tongues twining. Hands were everywhere, stroking, tugging, grabbing. Jean-Luc could taste his seed on Q's tongue, an oddly erotic sensation that he was sure he wanted to sample again soon. Q groaned desperately into Jean-Luc's throat.

( _Jean-Luc… Do you want to fuck me?_ ) Like magic - which more or less it was - a hot rush of arousal exploded in Jean-Luc's loins, spurring his cock into life an impossible third time in a row. He certainly wouldn't be declaring any rules concerning his refractory period anytime soon. As Jean-Luc wasn't accustomed to holding a mental conversation, he pulled away to look Q plainly in the eyes.

"Yes," he said unfalteringly, goaded by the aching longing he could clearly see buried deep within those dark irises. "Q, I want you. I want you terribly."

Q very visibly shuddered, and his eyes fell closed. "Oh, how I have longed to hear those words."

"I'm frightened I'll harm you. I haven't done this with a man in quite a long time."

Q snorted. "In this particular matter, I can honestly admit that I don't have any more experience than you do. Though 'hurting' me is not something you'll need to worry yourself about." he slipped his arms around Jean-Luc's neck, grinning. "I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Jean-Luc crushed his mouth over Q's and straddled his hips, reaching down to brush his fingers over Q's throbbing cock and down, down further to his entrance. Q moaned his need into Picard's mouth, whimpering in pleasure when the first of Jean-Luc's fingers slipped into him. Q's twitching pucker offered little resistance. Q had already lubricated himself, and though Picard appreciated his promptness, he made a mental note to explain the finer points of proper foreplay to Q at a later time. For now, he was just as impatient as Q and he slipped another finger inside, probing against Q's silken inner walls, drawing trembling moans from his - for lack of a better descriptor - lover. Jean-Luc inserted a third finger, and Q broke their kiss with a gasp.

"Enough, inside, please, I want you inside," he groaned frantically. Jean-Luc's brain was lost in a thick cloud of arousal, his cock heavy and leaking. He shifted, staring down at Q with fire in his eyes.

"Turn over." he instructed hastily, a command which Q followed quickly and easily, though his movements were so unsteady with lust Jean-Luc could barely believe he was seeing this side of Q, the side of him so willing and eager to submit to something so human as carnal whims.

Or was it more likely that this side of Q never existed before this very moment in time?

Q moved onto his hands and knees, thighs spread wide, arms trembling under him. Jean-Luc's mouth went dry at the sight. He eagerly mounted him, running his hands over Q's ass and then slowly up his spine, revelling in the warmth of his skin, the shifting of those human muscles, the slight tremble in his limbs as Picard appreciated his body. Q let loose a whimper as Jean-Luc's fingers touched him between his ass cheeks, rubbing lightly over his twitching entrance.

"I can't express what you're doing to me, Q. How it makes me feel to see you like this." Jean-Luc bent over him, kissing Q's shoulder, lining up his slick cock with Q's hole. "What are you doing to me?"

"Whatever you want, I'll do it," Q gasped mindlessly, pushing his hips back eagerly. "Please, Jean-Luc, oh please…"

Jean-Luc was in no fit state of mind to tease Q further. His want was just as strong as Q's, and though he'd already come twice, he felt as wound-up and impatient as a teenager. He grabbed Q's hips and eased the head of his cock inside, pushing through the tense ring of muscle guarding Q's mortal depths. Both of them sighed in unison, taking a moment to adjust to the new sensation they were both experiencing. Jean-Luc lay a dozen kisses to Q's back as the entity's inner muscles throbbed and tensed around the head of his dick.

"Incredible," Jean-Luc groaned. "You feel incredible, Q."

"More of you," Q choked out headily. "I want all of you, _ahh_ , I adore you, please-"

Jean-Luc rocked his hips forward and thrust himself to the hilt. Q cried out, elbows buckling, grasping desperately at the sheets as Jean-Luc pulled out halfway just to plunge back inside. Struggling to keep his senses, Jean-Luc found a satisfying rhythm, rutting into Q with vigor, sweat shining on his skin. The reality of what was happening threatened to blind him. The idea of what he was doing - and who he was doing it to - was more erotic than the physical act, and he expected Q felt similarly if his incoherent moans and cries were anything to go by.

Jean-Luc leaned over Q's body to drive himself deeper, his hands slipping around to explore Q's chest, the pads of his fingers grazing lightly over his nipples. Q choked out a strangled moan, his back arching as an automatic response to the stimulus; the rapture Jean-Luc felt over causing such a powerful response in Q was intense. He buried his cock into Q's hot depths while gently rubbing Q's nipples, earning him a string of lewd moans and incoherent pleas.

"W-what…." Q tossed his head back, his beautiful mouth gasping in pleasure, "How can this… body… be so sensitive...? No matter where y-you touch me - _ahhh, hah_ \- it feels incredible… _Ah_ …! Don't stop…!"

"I won't," Jean-Luc panted, pumping his length into Q's smouldering tunnel, groaning sharply when Q's inner muscles clamped down on his cock with urgent need. "I couldn't even if I wanted to, not anymore."

" _Harder_ ," Q moaned, "More… just give me more…!"

Jean-Luc found he had no issue obliging such vague desires in full. Jean-Luc hiked Q's hips up and knocked his thighs farther apart, pounding into Q with reborn fervor, feeling his third climax building tightly and almost painfully in his cock and balls. He reached around and sought out Q's throbbing penis, stroking him in time with his own thrusts and revelling in Q's cries and moans as he worked to bring them both over the precarious edge of release.

In a different time, Jean-Luc would have possibly violated several Federation regulations in order to be permanently rid of Q and his foolishness. Now, he was willingly fucking Q into oblivion on his bed in his private chambers, feeling Q's cock twitch and explode in his hand as he came with a hoarse cry, spraying ropes of cum over his bedsheets. Jean-Luc could hardly appreciate the sheer madness of the concept at the moment; he hugged Q tightly from behind, groaning as he came deeply inside him, his consciousness flickering from the intensity. As he collapsed on top of Q and they fell together onto the bed, sweaty and quaking in pleasure, he found he couldn't appreciate anything other than the warmth of Q's body and the residual feeling of touching him, of being inside of him.

" _Mon_ _dieu…_ " Jean-Luc sighed, twining his arms around Q's chest, kissing his shoulder.

"That doesn't even _begin_ to summarize it," Q purred, carefully turning over to peck his lover's lips affectionately.

.

.

.

"So, this is pillow talk, correct?"

Q lay on his side, his head propped up on an elbow, legs wrapped up in the bed sheets. His other hand lay on his hip, idly twirling the purple flower in his fingers, while his dark eyes locked on Jean-Luc with amourous purpose. "It sounds so drab, 'pillow talk'. We should call it something else, something like: 'the calm after incredible, mind-blowing sex' or 'why are we laying around when we could be having sex _again_?' You know, something more specific."

Jean-Luc chuckled, bringing his cup of earl grey to his lips and blowing over it before taking a careful sip. "We are 'laying around' because I haven't the mind to go for another round, regardless of my mysteriously missing refractory period. If we keep on as we have I fear I'll never get any work done ever again."

Q grinned triumphantly. "Oh, what a terrible problem to have."

"It is for me," Jean-Luc pointed out, smiling back. He shifted his shoulders against the pillows wedged behind his back, sitting up a little straighter. He set his teacup delicately in its small china plate, frowning down at it. "Q, this is very good tea. Thank you."

"Certainly better than whatever your replicator can conjure up." Q wormed closer to Jean-Luc, pressing soft kisses to his thigh. Jean-Luc's breath hitched. "But truthfully, I just wanted to stop you from leaving the bed."

Jean-Luc let out a shaky sigh. "Always an ulterior motive," he chuckled, feeling his cock threatening to stir under the sheets. "Q, I want to talk for a moment. Please."

"Haven't we talked enough?" Q murmured against Picard's skin, earning him a shiver.

"Q."

"Fine, fine." Q pulled himself up, sitting next to Jean-Luc and leaning his arm on one knee. "More rules, I take it." His voice betrayed thinly veiled disappointment.

Jean-Luc glanced at Q with a concerned frown. "Q, I hope you realize that I only want to be clear about where we stand. This sort of relationship goes far beyond trust. A human and a Q… If we don't lay down some rules and accept that there need to be compromises, I can't see how else it can work." He sighed gently. "And I _want_ it to work."

Q met Jean-Luc's gaze, and his subtle impatience seemed to dissolve in an instant. "Oh, alright. I suppose you're right, as usual. An irritating habit of yours, Jean-Luc." He prepared to count off on his fingers. "So let us recap. No whisking you or your crew away through time or space without your permission. No interfering with your missions, your ship, your crew, etcetera. No revealing information that could potentially affect the timeline, your missions, yadda yadda… Does that sound about right?"

"It does," Jean-Luc sipped from his teacup, the steaming liquid soothing his slightly hoarse throat. "You have no objections?"

Q crossed his arms over his chest. "No, no. All perfectly reasonable stipulations, naturally. I never would have considered telling you how I felt if I hadn't been prepared for at least that much." He perked a brow, glancing at Jean-Luc with a small smile. "What say you to hearing a stipulation of my own?"

"This ought to be good," Jean-Luc piped, peering inquisitively at Q over the lip of his teacup, drinking deeply.

"I assume your duties and responsibilities will make it difficult for us to spend time together. I understand that's a rather big reason you've skirted relationships in general, yes? To prioritize your career?"

Jean-Luc frowned, lowering his cup. "I would… say that assumption is accurate, yes. What does-"

"So, here is what I propose." In a flash of light Q vanished as did the teacup in Jean-Luc's hands. The purple flower returned to its vase on Picard's desk and Q reappeared straddling Jean-Luc's lap, setting his arms on the Captain's shoulders. "If your career keeps you too busy to enjoy my magnanimous company - or put simply, if I'm feeling particularly neglected - I reserve the right to put aside a certain amount of 'us' time, that I may redeem when it suits the both of us."

Jean-Luc leveled Q a suspicious look, though his lips were tugging into a grin. "And how will you accurately log this 'us' time?" he asked, sliding his hands to Q's hips.

"Oh, I have a couple of ideas, don't worry," Q purred, leaning forward to lay deliberate kisses over Jean-Luc's shoulder and collarbone. "I'll be very fair. Maybe, let's see, how about for every Earth hour you can't give me your undivided attention, I get a whole week as recompense?"

"Well thank goodness you understand the concept of fairness," Picard chuckled, tilting his head back to better expose his throat as Q explored the pale skin with his lips. "Try again, Q."

Q left a gentle bite on the bend of Jean-Luc's neck. " _Fiiiine_. You're so fussy. Whenever I find it necessary to add time to the proverbial jar, I'll present my case and you can feel free to haggle. Better?"

"Better," Jean-Luc laughed, running his hands up Q's spine. "Tell me, how do you expect this 'us' time to be carried out?"

"Jean-Luc, _really_ ," Q pulled back and rolled his eyes just for added emphasis, "you have to ask? Time means nothing to me. This is going to be hard enough as it is to try and follow your dreadfully linear way of living… We have _eternity_ to work within, _mon capitaine_." The entity's dark eyes gleamed. "I promise, you'll never miss a second of your time on the _Enterprise_ , I'll see to it. Just think of it as having lots of saved-up vacation time."

"I detest vacations," Jean-Luc rebutted, though he knew of at least one vacation he hadn't found completely contemptuous. Q's smile seemed to indicate that he was thinking along similar lines.

"Oh, I think you'll come around," Q hummed, "or will you honestly try and convince me you didn't have a wonderful time with me tonight?"

He couldn't, of course. Jean-Luc knew he couldn't claim anything so utterly dishonest, nor did he particularly want to. He wasn't sure he was ready to apply a specific word to the swelling of strong emotions that had begun to form as the evening progressed, but he certainly couldn't deny that he wanted more of this, whatever this was, and he was absolutely resolute in holding onto it.

Jean-Luc curled his fingers at the base of Q's neck and pulled him into a soft, deep kiss. Q whimpered into his mouth, winding his arms tightly around Jean-Luc's neck. They kissed for several moments, barely breathing, their pace slow and amorous; Jean-Luc pulled them apart, holding Q's face in his hands. For the first time, he could clearly see the universe in Q's eyes.

"Wonderful doesn't begin to describe it," Jean-Luc professed softly. "If your only request of me is eternity, Q, I believe I can learn to live with that."

 

.

 

**To be continued**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnddd I'm done posting the first part! I hope you all liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 
> 
> The next part will focus heavily on what this new relationship means for both Jean-Luc and Q, how it will affect them, and how Q's new presence on the ship will fare with the crew. Also you can expect a couple new characters, and an interesting new development!
> 
> Leave a comment if you enjoyed! o(≧∇≦o) I'll see you all in the next part, I'll be uploading a new chapter every Monday! ヾ(｡･ω･)ｼ


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